Free At Last
by writes4fun-81
Summary: Ranger and the men who served with him in the Army have many secrets. One secret in particular prevents them from living regular lives. What will happen when they get a second chance at being normal? *Spoilers for FLF and others* BabeFic. HEA. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: Hi there! Although I've been writing fan fiction for a while in other fandoms (under a different penname), this is my first attempt at a Stephanie Plum story. One of the things I like to do at the beginnings of my chapters is to include quotes from the original books. The author's words help me to put things into a specific context or to set a certain mood. I hope you'll like it! :D**

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_"You should be happy," I said to Ranger. "You solved your mystery."_

_"I was almost ruined by two goofy kids. I'm embarrassed." _

_"Whoa," I said. "That's an emotion."_

_"You don't think I have emotions?"_

_"I don't think you very often get embarrassed."_

_"It takes a lot," Ranger said._

_Finger Lickin' Fifteen_

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**Chapter 1: Party Pooper**

Tank silently stood in the too-quiet control room and watched Ranger as Ranger watched the tiny blue blip on the status screen. Ricardo Carlos Manoso, also known as Ranger, Tank's long-time business partner, as well as his former commanding officer, was always in total control of his actions and decisions. However, at this moment, Carlos, Tank's best friend and 'partner in crime' was in the midst of an internal struggle over which he had no control.

There was an on-going battle raging around them - one that had no definite outcome at that precise moment. The enormous man stifled a tired sigh. It caused Tank great pain to know that, despite his own great physical strength and mental quickness, he was helpless to do anything about his friend's current situation.

Blinking bright blue against the dark gray screen, the blip which represented Stephanie Plum's personal tracking device was still in the same location where it had stopped after it left the RangeMan building earlier that evening - Joe Morelli's house. Never mind the fact that she had told Ranger she was going to return her father's cab and stay at her parent's house for the night. Tank glanced at the time-counter on the screen and discovered that the blip hadn't moved for the past three hours.

Stephanie had just helped Ranger and his security company, RangeMan, solve a huge problem. A couple of vindictive teenagers had used tiny cameras to spy on a variety of RangeMan's residential and industrial clients. After they acquired several security access codes, they robbed the targeted clients and caused a lot of damage to the company's previously stellar reputation. Stephanie figured out how the young men were stealing the codes and then, in that weird and lucky way of hers, she stumbled upon the ring-leader of the group at a near-by Starbucks and guided Ranger and his men to the thieves' low-rent lair.

It was a tremendous relief to discover that no one from inside the RangeMan 'family' had been responsible for the string of break-ins. Suspicions had run high in the office until Stephanie verified that none of the Merry Men could have committed the crimes. Now everyone knew that they could trust each other the way they had done before all the trouble started.

When Tank returned from handing the clever young criminals over to the police, he thought that the control room would be filled with celebratory chatter and playfulness. Instead, the atmosphere felt heavy with anxiety and embarrassment. And Tank knew the reason for it. Obviously, everybody else did, too.

"Ranger," Tank said quietly. "A word, please? In private?"

The two men left the control room and entered Ranger's office. Tank quietly closed the door behind him and then sat across from Ranger on the opposite side of his large desk. Ranger did not relax in his chair and neither man spoke or broke eye contact for a long moment.

"Speak." Ranger finally said in his clipped efficiency. His dark eyes looked tired and Tank wondered just how long his friend had been staring at the status screen, waiting for the blip to move.

"The computer whiz-kids are locked up," Tank reported. "It's all squared away for tonight, but the cops'll need you and Stephanie to go in and give full statements in the morning."

"Hooah." (_Translation: "Thanks, Tank. I appreciate the fact that you always do a good job. I'll take care of the rest of it tomorrow.")_

"So ... what happened this time? Why did she go back to Morelli's place?"

Ranger pressed his lips together tightly until they were a thin straight line. Tank didn't ordinarily ask any questions about Ranger's odd triangular relationship with Stephanie Plum and Joe Morelli. He'd always accepted that his friend/boss was quite proficient in the romance department. What Ranger did or did not do in the privacy of his own apartment was none of Tank's business anyway. Except ... except _**this**_ time, something felt very different.

In fact, Tank could sense it in his bones that something had gone wrong between Ranger and Stephanie while he was making his delivery to the Trenton police station. After all, he had seen the way the flirtatious couple gazed hungrily at each other when they thought no one was watching. In fact, anyone who'd had monitor duty at RangeMan had witnessed the couple kissing and pawing at each other in the garage, in the hallway, in the elevator, everywhere. Stephanie had even moved in with Ranger after her apartment was firebombed - again. No one doubted their mutual attraction, so why was Bomber back at the cop's house?

"Drop it." Ranger finally said, hoping against hope that Tank would comply with his request.

"No, sir. I can't drop it. This ... situation ... is affecting the men's morale. They should be celebrating right now - we all should - but the control room is as silent as a tomb. What do you think is going to happen when Bomber comes back to work tomorrow? Stephanie's one of _**us**_ now. She should be in _**your**_ bed, Ranger, not _**his**_."

"I _**don't**_ want to talk about it. You, of all people, should understand that. You **_know_** that I can't give her what he can give her. I don't like it, but this is the way it has to be."

"Screw that, Ranger!" Now Tank was angry. "No one in his right mind would put up with this back-and-forth crap!"

"Who says I'm in my right mind?"

This time Tank allowed himself to blow out a long sigh. "Dr. O'Neill's next visit is in two weeks. He's gonna run all the tests again. Someday ... we'll be free to ... to have normal lives. Everything will be fine. Maybe it'll be sooner than you think. Hell, our old team has already recovered faster than anyone else who was on that messed-up mission."

"In all ways except the one that makes us men."

"Damn it all, Ranger!" Tank spoke through clenched teeth. "_**You're **_the one who's always told us to keep the faith. _**You're**_ the one who's always ensured that we all ate right and got the right balance of work, exercise and down-time to build up our strength again. Now _**you're**_ the one who's bringing us down! We _**won**_ tonight, but no one's celebrating the victory because of what's going on - or rather, _**not**_ going on - between you and Stephanie."

"I **_said_** I don't want to talk about it." Ranger's voice was barely audible through his clenched teeth.

Knowing that he was pushing his luck, Tank shook his head and turned toward the door. "Well, do us all a favor, _**sir**_, and stay up on the seventh floor for the rest of the night. Now that we know there won't be any more break-ins, you can get some decent rest."

"Fine." Ranger said. "I'm offline, then. I'll be in my apartment."

Before Tank left the office, he looked at Ranger and said, "I was thinking that the men deserve to have a little fun, so I brought back some snacks and a case of soda for the guys on monitor duty and a mini-keg for the ones who are off duty right now."

"Hooah," Ranger said and he nodded slightly. (_Translation: "You're right, old friend. Sorry I'm being such an ass right now. Go ahead and have some fun. I'll stay out of your way."_)

"And Ranger," Tank said as he slid through the doorway, "I'll let you know when the blip on the screen moves again. She'll come back to you in good time - she always does."

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**A/N: I've always wondered why Ranger keeps pushing Stephanie back into Morelli's arms, especially since he clearly loves her - and not just in his own way. This story, which takes place immediately after FLF, offers an explanation (eventually) for the Man of Mystery's actions. I've been around the Army (and in it, too) all of my life and soldiers use the word "Hooah" as a catch-all phrase to mean anything from "I understand and will comply with your orders" to "Damn skippy!" Throughout this story, I plan to translate what the characters mean when they say "Hooah." Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: Wow! Thank you for all of the encouraging reviews! I am extremely humbled that you liked my first chapter and I hope this story will live up to your expectations. It makes me a little nervous to continue, but I'm already working on an ending. I had intended to post the previous chapter before the weekend, but I went skiing with my family instead. ^_^ Anyway, this chapter is from Ranger's POV and it's almost twice as long as the previous one to make amends for its tardiness. Warning: There are some flashback/dream scenes of torture, but I believe I've written them in such a manner to maintain my 'T' rating. Please let me know what you think. Thanks!**

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_"That had to be the longest night in the history of the world," Ranger said. "I was captured by Columbian rebels and tortured for three days and it was better than that dinner."_

_Fearless Fourteen_

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**Chapter 2: Tortured Soul**

Tank was right - our men should be celebrating. My mood was bringing everyone else's mood down. I knew I felt embarrassed by those snotty-nosed punks who almost toppled my business, but that was much, much better than if one of my own people had been trying to ruin me. As I rode the elevator up to the seventh floor, I thought about how idiotic I'd been. Hopefully - now that I was out of the picture for the rest of the night - the guys down in the control room and on the fourth floor would be able to loosen up and have a good time.

My biggest problem right now was that I hated to admit how much Stephanie's long stop at Morelli's house bothered me. I want my Babe so much that it's become a constant physical ache in both my body and my soul. I usually try to gloss over the subtle torture with heavy flirting and suggestive remarks, but it's getting harder and harder for me to push her away. Sure, we've had some close calls, but the physical flirtation has become the norm between us. Technically, though, I haven't done anything to steal her away from Morelli permanently.

Even though I'd told Tank that this is the way it has to be, I agreed with him that Stephanie should still be in my bed and not back in Morelli's tonight. In fact, although she and I shared my bed all week long, I didn't make a significant move on her. I almost had a taste of my Babe's sweetness this morning, but her damn cell phone rang and she just wouldn't ignore it. I couldn't believe my bad luck - it was Steph's father calling to complain that she still had his cab. She jumped right out of bed to pick up the passenger for her father and left me high and dry. Of course, my men have no idea what really goes on between me and Stephanie behind closed doors - and, truthfully, I don't want my men to find out that I'm such a fraud.

A while ago, when Stephanie first started working for RangeMan, I allowed everyone in the building to believe that she and I have an ongoing physical relationship. Actually, I've only made love to her the one time - in accordance with that ridiculous deal I made with her after I helped her bring in Eddie DeChooch. What a colossal mistake that turned out to be! Now Stephanie is the only woman I want to be with and I can't have her - not completely, anyway.

Honestly, though, I doubt that anyone would blame me for trying to get away with poaching from Morelli as much as I can. Stephanie has broken up and reconciled with that guy so many times in the past few years that I no longer feel as guilty as I should when I pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless. I'd probably stop if she told me to - if I thought she really meant it - but my Babe usually lets my hands and lips roam pretty far before her misplaced guilt kicks in.

I know that the surveillance cameras all over my building have recorded the kisses and the touches and the barely-contained sensuality that Steph and I share when she's in my vicinity. Whoever is watching the monitors is sure to get quite a show and my Babe would kill me if she knew just how serious my men think our relationship is. I'm sure that even Tank is convinced that she and I are having sex on a regular basis up in my apartment. And it's entirely my fault that I've let the charade go on for far too long.

The fact is: My personal life sucks! It's a complete mess - and I can't figure out exactly how to clean it up. There's a phenomenally strong bond between me and Stephanie and I know she feels it, too. Sometimes it's like I'm addicted to some sort of exotic drug designed specifically for me. I hate myself for being too weak to give her up, but the last time I went 'cold turkey' and stayed away from her, I could barely function. Sure, I can kick ass all day long and take down bad guys until there aren't any left standing, but everything seems so pointless when I haven't had a 'fix' of my precious Babe.

Unfortunately, short of storming over to Morelli's house and causing a big ruckus, there was nothing I could do about it tonight. Stephanie didn't - and never had - belonged with Morelli, but he went after her first. In fact, they've already shared so much history together that she has difficulty envisioning her life without him playing the starring role. The harsh reality of my current condition means that Stephanie can't belong with me, either - at least, not yet and perhaps, not ever. Time will tell, but I sense that I'm running out of such time to eclipse Morelli in my Babe's heart.

When I entered into the peaceful sanctuary of my private apartment, I convinced myself that it would be best for everyone's sake for me to get some rest and start fresh in the morning. I took a very hot shower and stood under the pulsating streams of water for a long time, sighing as the tension in my neck and shoulders rinsed down the drain. Afterward, my robe, which was hanging on the hook on the back of the bathroom door, caught my attention. _**I **_rarely ever wore the thing, but Stephanie had begun to wrap it around her luscious body whenever she took a shower at my place.

On a whim, I shrugged into the silky soft, seldom-used robe and tied the sash around my waist. It still held Stephanie's special scent within the folds of its luxurious fabric. The robe really was comfortable and I made a mental note to thank Ella once again for being such a great shopper. Breathing in my Babe's delicious fragrance, I realized that I was behaving like a love-sick teenager in one of those sappy telenovelas my sisters watched on TV. It was both disgusting and pathetic, but I kept the robe on anyway.

The smooth leather cushions of my living room sofa made a soft creaking sound as I flopped down onto them and turned on the large, flat-screened TV. Flipping through channel after channel, I tried to find something - anything - that would take my mind off of Stephanie. Not surprisingly, there was nothing good to watch on any of the 400 channels after midnight. I finally settled on an Animal Planet show about the jungle cats of South America.

That turned out to be a big mistake. The sights and sounds coming from the TV transported me back in time to one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. I dozed off while watching footage of the lush, green habitat where the elusive felines roamed and I was powerless to prevent the screaming growls of mating jaguars from flowing into my subconscious mind. It was impossible for me to prevent the dreams - nightmares, really - that followed ...

* * *

_The only screams now were the ones happening inside of my head. I clenched my teeth together and bit down on the inside of my mouth to keep any sounds from escaping. Even after two days of beatings and a third day of electrical shocks to the most sensitive places on my body, I refused to give my captors the satisfaction of uttering a sound louder than a low grunt or labored breathing. The closest I came to cracking was after one of the torturers removed a fourth toenail from my foot._

_"You _**will **_talk to me, my fine young Americano," said the velvety voice of Eduardo Lagos, commonly known as El Lagarto - the Lizard. His slightly lisping Spanish sounded much more refined than the harsh dialect of the Columbian rebels who had been torturing me. "My guards tell me that their methods of persuasion have not yet loosened your tongue, but sooner or later, everyone talks. Now it is _**my**_ turn and I _**always**_ succeed."_

_The Lagos family was closely affiliated with the powerful Norte del Valle drug cartel in Colombia. In particular, Eduardo Lagos ran a secret laboratory where he specialized in creating highly addictive designer drugs instead of producing cocaine like the rest of his family. U.S. intelligence operatives discovered that Eduardo, who had been a medical doctor, had recently developed a very powerful and potentially lethal new drug. _

_Apparently, Josef Mengele was an inspiration to Eduardo Lagos, whose long-term obsession was population control. The doctor-turned-mad scientist truly believed that he was on an important mission from God to rid the world of people he deemed unworthy of living - drug addicts, illiterate peasants, political enemies, and anyone else who annoyed him. Like Mengele, El Lagarto tested his experimental drugs on human subjects, often with gruesome or fatal results. _

_Our DEA operatives had heard the rumors that the new drug really was a sterilizing agent and that El Lagarto was pressuring his family's cocaine producers to add it into their shipments to the United States. Unfortunately, Eduardo's private army discovered and captured our special operations team that had gone in to investigate the situation in the northern jungles of Columbia. Now my entire platoon had the tasks of rescuing our comrades and then shutting down the lab and El Lagarto - permanently. _

_I was a seasoned lieutenant back then - recently selected for early promotion to the rank of captain - and I'd been on these types of missions several times already. Unfortunately, my training and experience hadn't mattered very much because there was a 'mole' in one of the agencies who knew about our mission and El Lagarto's rebels were ready for us almost as soon as we set foot in his part of the jungle. After a brief fire-fight, my team and I were captured, too. Thankfully, my second-in-command, Sergeant Pierre Santiago - also known as Tank - had escaped with one of the other teams and I knew he'd be back with more firepower ASAP. I only hoped they'd get here soon - one more toenail extraction and I'd have to bite my tongue completely off to keep from talking._

_El Lagarto's red-rimmed eyes gazed glassily into my stony glare as he dragged his manicured fingernails down my bruised chest. Clearly, the madman had been dipping into his own illegal drug supplies for far too long, but it didn't matter now because we both understood that he possessed all the power and I possessed none. I was naked, shackled and chained to the wall. No amount of struggling would free me from his hellish prison._

_In preparation for this mission, I'd read the complete file on Eduardo Lagos and I truly began to feel more fear than I'd had in a long, long time - not since my first, terrible days in juvenile detention. Although El Lagarto's tastes primarily ran toward effeminate teenaged boys, I sensed that he was ready to make an exception for me. My blood ran cold whenever he touched me; the lust in his eyes and the reaction of his body made his intentions quite obvious. _

_It took every bit of control I possessed not to flinch or react when El Lagarto took hold of me and whispered seductively into my ear. "I _**own **_you now," he said. "One way or another, Ricardo - yes, I know your real name, Lieutenant Manoso - you'll tell me what I want to know. And I want to know _**everything**_ before I dispose of you. I've considered keeping you around as my new grown-up play toy, but the other boys would become jealous. Besides, I'd probably have to keep you drugged to control you and that's really not so much fun for me anyway. Now, we shall begin ..." _

* * *

I awoke with a start. It took me a moment to calm my breathing and to realize where I was at that moment. The documentary about jaguars and ocelots had finished and now there was a different show on about a bunch of pet owners who coaxed a variety of dogs and birds into performing stupid tricks for a studio audience. I turned off the TV and breathed a sigh of relief that I was here in my apartment in Trenton and not in the jungles of Columbia.

Back then, Tank had led two squads of Army Rangers back to the compound to rescue me and the other captives. He, Bobby and Vince found me and freed me before El Lagarto had the opportunity to fully violate me, but not before that lunatic had abused me in several other ways. My head was so messed up that Tank had to pull me away from repeatedly kicking Eduardo's bloody corpse long after my tormentor had taken his final breath. That's the only time I've ever lost control of myself and even though those horrific events took place long ago, they still haunt me. Someday ... someday _**soon**_ ... I hoped to break free.

It took a few months for my body to recover from the major injuries back then, but there were other issues which became obvious as time wore on. We later learned that Eduardo Lagos' final experiment was far more insidious than anyone had thought. From studying his computer files and notes, our scientists discovered that El Lagarto planned to sterilize all of the drug-addicted population of the world and that he also intended to prevent his enemies from procreating.

Not only had the crazy bastard mixed the drug into every sorry scrap of food he'd fed his captives, but he'd also sprayed it onto the foliage surrounding his compound. The whole area was contaminated. As a result, all of the soldiers, including me, on that ill-fated mission had ingested enough of the drug to be rendered completely sterile until our country's scientists were able to figure out how to counteract the poison with periodic injections of a specialized antidote. Unfortunately, the antidote caused nausea and fatigue, which we learned to combat with a healthy, well-balanced diet and a consistently rigorous exercise regimen.

There seemed to be few other side effects. To our great relief, El Lagarto's drug hadn't rendered anyone impotent. Everything worked just fine except for the fact that we all were 'shooting blanks' whenever we had sex. This was devastating for the married men and their wives, but the single guys only worried about their inability to create new life when they became serious with their girlfriends. Dr. O'Neill recommended that we all still use condoms for the sake of protection from other complications, but until he and his team of scientists figured out a real cure for our sterility, it really didn't seem to matter. There hadn't been any children conceived since that mission.

Only the fact that my older brother already had three sons, as well as the fact that I'd already fathered my daughter, Julie, helped me to cope with my personal situation. We'd already endured that the Manoso name and genes would live on beyond our generation. My condition was bearable and I was otherwise fine, or so I told myself, until I fell in love with a woman who was driving me crazy - Stephanie Plum. I would give her the world on a platter if she'd allow such a thing, but my Babe was the kind of girl who would want to have a child of her own eventually - and that was the only thing Morelli could give to her that I couldn't.

Making matters worse, I looked at the clock and saw that it was almost three o'clock in the morning. I checked my phone for messages, but Tank hadn't called me to say that Stephanie's location had changed. Like I said - my life sucked. I began to wonder if it was time to relocate to my Miami offices for a long, long while. Perhaps a change of scenery was just what I needed.

Sleep was what I needed now, but I almost feared lying back down. It had been such a long time since I'd had any dreams that I could remember, but dreaming about El Lagarto brought back too many dark thoughts and feelings. I was glad that the doctor assigned to our case was coming to Trenton soon. Perhaps Dr. O'Neill would have good news for us this time. I _**really**_ needed to hear some good news.

Dragging my weary body to bed became my immediate goal and it was all I could do to crawl in between the cool sheets. I was thinking about how lonely my king-sized bed felt without Stephanie's warm body to snuggle up next to mine when I became acutely aware that the pillows still smelled like my Babe. Her scent lingered on them even more than it did on the robe. Burying my face in the pillow's softness, I allowed my tortured soul to enjoy the illusion of having Steph here in bed with me. Then I drifted off into a deep - and mercifully dreamless - sleep.

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**A/N: Okay, I realize that this chapter was rather angst-ridden and that there weren't any "Hooah!"s in here; however, it was necessary to lay the foundation on which I'll be building the rest of the story. The next chapter will involve a bit more of the Merry Men, but not so much Stephanie. Never fear - I'm sure she'll show up soon enough. Again, I'm very grateful for all your encouraging reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think of my story. Thanks!! :D **


	3. Chapter 3

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: This chapter focuses on some of Ranger's Merry Men. My hubby is a graduate of the U.S. Army Ranger School and we have known many other Rangers during our military career. They all tend to be very intelligent, quick thinkers, with a wide variety of skills. At first, I wrote this chapter in third-person, but Tank kept pestering me for an outlet, so I had to rework it a few times in order to give him a voice. I hope it's not too OOC for those of you who've come to know the MM in a certain light, but as I've said, the real Rangers I know are very, very talented and I think the ones on RangeMan's payroll are multi-talented, too. Enjoy! :D**

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_Tank was second in command at Ranger's security company. He was Ranger's best friend and he watched Ranger's back. He was a big guy who didn't talk much, but carried a real big stick...."_

_Plum Lovin'_

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**Chapter 3: Wounded Warriors**

After I sent Ranger up to his apartment, I returned to the control room and looked around. A few of the men who lived in fourth-floor apartments had retired for the evening, but several of them were still hanging around, talking with their friends. There were a few quiet conversations going on; however, there weren't many smiling faces on the men in the room. Damn! This told me that there'd been no change in Stephanie's status.

"Hal! Binkie!" I called to the closest group of guys. "I need you to go down to my truck and bring the keg and food up to the chow hall. The men on duty will have to settle for Pepsis and Sprites to drink. We're gonna celebrate the fact that we caught those damn kids who were stealing from us _**and**_ that we all still got jobs."

"Hooah!" (_Translation: Hell, yeah! We're gonna par-tay!_) Everyone answered and then the room was filled with noise and laughter as they clapped each other on their backs and did fist-bumps.

I tossed Hal my keys and the big blond disappeared with Binkie and two other guys into the elevator. The mood in the control room lightened up considerably after that exchange. I smiled at Bobby Brown and Lester Santos as they crossed the room to speak with me.

I've known these guys since we all were stationed together in the 75th Ranger Regiment at Fort Benning, Georgia. In fact, Lester is the one who introduced me to my best friend, Carlos, all those years ago. I went through Ranger School with Lester. His last name is Santos and my last name is Santiago, so we were in the same training platoon. It's funny how all of us were Army Rangers, but only Carlos uses that nickname now.

I remember when Lester got all excited because his cousin had dropped out of college to join him in the Army. Lester's mother and Carlos' father are related somehow, and part of their extended family lives in a close-knit community of mostly Cuban immigrants in Newark. The other part lives down in Miami. I envy them. The only people I was ever close to were my mother and my father's sister. Ever since they died many years ago, I haven't talked to anyone from either side of my family.

A lot of my relatives immigrated from both Haiti and the Dominican Republic - which is why I'm fluent in Spanish, French, and several Creole dialects. I'm good with some other languages, too, but very few people know about that. Most of the time, I stay quiet and allow folks to think I'm only around to provide muscle and back-up to Ranger. People say things - especially in Spanish - and they don't know that I can understand their conversations. Nice 'secret weapon', huh?

Anyway, the Army recognized Carlos' leadership potential right away, so he went through OCS (_Translation: Officer Candidate School_) after Ranger School and became a second lieutenant. By the time he got assigned as a platoon leader in our unit at Ft. Benning, Lester and I had become friends with Bobby, who was one of our platoon's medics. Vince, Benny, Roy, Silvio, and Erik were also part of our tight group. We all were together on that FUBAR (_Translation: F'd Up Beyond All Reason/Recognition_) mission to Columbia.

Special operations teams become very close 'bands of brothers' and that's what we've remained ever since El Lagarto's drug messed up our bodies. After we came off of active duty, several of us formed our security company, RangeMan. I trust Carlos - 'Ranger' now to all who know him as a civilian - with my life and vice versa. We watch out for each other in every way possible, except for in matters of the heart. We're both totally screwed up in that way.

Never mind the fact that I was once engaged to a crazy woman named Lula, who happens to be friends with Stephanie Plum. To this day, I still don't know exactly how that happened. Don't get me wrong - Lula's the best lay I _**ever**_ had and I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with her on a regular basis. But I don't want marriage and I surely don't want a family. I like my privacy and my freedom. Thank God I found out that Lula is allergic to cats.

Honestly, I've never seen myself as the marrying kind. My father was an abusive alcoholic who died young and left my mother and me with nothing but a huge pile of debt and no money. We had to depend on the charity of family members, and there wasn't much of that to go around. I grew up quickly and learned how to fight. For a while, one of my uncles tried to pimp me out as a boxer, but I hated it. I joined the Army as soon as I was legal and I never looked back.

As strange as it might seem, I'm actually okay with the fact that I'm sterile right now. Like I said, I just can't see myself as a family man. I feel bad for the other guys, though, especially the married ones like Silvio down in our Miami branch office and Erik Salvatora out in Las Vegas. Erik and Silvio, Bobby and Vince, as well as Benny and Roy, all are under the care of the same doctor as Ranger and me. Luckily, Erik, like Ranger, already had a kid - in fact, he had two boys and a girl - before we were exposed to that drug. Silvio's wife left him when she found out he couldn't give her kids, but I heard they got back together since he moved to Miami to be close to her again.

I don't know what to do about Ranger. His FUBAR relationship with Stephanie Plum and that sometimes-boyfriend of hers, Morelli, is driving him nuts and it's downright confusing to the rest of us. I've had lots of experience with psychological warfare - and I still can't figure out what's going on between the three of them. Ranger and Morelli aren't the type of guys who'd share the same woman, but that's what it looks like is going on here. I just don't get it.

"What did you say to Ranger?" Bobby asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah," added Lester, "What's the deal with my cousin? If I didn't know any better, I'd say he ain't gettin' any."

I shook my head. "You _**know**_ what the deal is. But I wasn't here when Bomber left the building tonight. So _**you**_ tell _**me**_ - what happened?""

Bobby and Lester looked at each other and shrugged.

"I don't know," said Lester, shaking his head now, "It all looked good on the elevator ride up, but when they went downstairs to get in her father's cab, Bomber had a bag of clothes in her arms and Ranger secured the hamster cage in the seat next to her. Then they kissed and she left."

"Was it their usual garage PDA?" (_Translation: Public Display of Affection_)

"Uh, no. They weren't really all over each other, but they didn't seem to be angry or anything, either."

"Hunh!" I said. "That still doesn't sound good."

"No, it doesn't," Bobby said. "Next thing we knew, Ranger was in here watching her blip as it traveled across the screen. When she stopped at the cop's house, we all just froze. Nobody could look at Ranger. Nobody even _**wanted**_ to talk to Ranger. What could we say?"

"Yeah," Lester agreed, "It was like the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees colder. I've always wondered how he does that - even when we were growing up in Newark, Ranger's mood swings could affect a whole roomful of people. It was freaky then and it's still freaky now."

"I don't understand how Ranger maintains his cool whenever Stephanie goes back to the cop," Bobby complained. "I love Bomber just as much as everyone else does, but, damn! What's a fella gotta do to make that woman stay put? I bet Morelli doesn't like it any better when she stays over here at RangeMan."

Again, I shook my head and replied, "Hey, I can't criticize, 'cause I just got _**un**_-engaged to Lula not too long ago. All my PsyOps (_Translation: Psychological Operations_) training didn't even come close to preparing me for what that woman put me through. Females are hard to figure out. Ranger's not used to not getting his way and we all know how hard it is to predict what our Bomber will do at any given moment. The only thing I know for sure is that the current situation is not good - not for him and not for us."

"I've never seen anything like it. It's **_completely_** FUBAR!" Bobby quietly exclaimed, trying not to draw anyone else's attention.

"What the hell are we supposed to do about these guys?" Lester asked. "It's not looking like Ranger is doing anything to push Morelli out of the picture. I know if Stephanie was _**my**_ woman..."

"Yeah, well, she's _**not**_." I said tightly. "We'll worry about Ranger's situation tomorrow. Regardless of Miss Plum's current location, it's time for Ranger to pull his head out of his own ass. I reminded our fearless leader that **_we_** need to let off some steam and celebrate the fact that Stephanie just saved _**all **_our asses." Then I sighed tiredly. "Anyway, I told him he definitely needed to catch some Zs (_Translation: sleep_) and maybe even go on a little off-line out-of-town break. It's been a stressful few weeks. He'll be alright - eventually."

"Damn!" Lester snapped his fingers. "I love it when you get all analytical on his ass! Ranger hasn't been this messed up over a woman since - well, since never. Maybe in high school, but he was living in Miami back then so I don't really know."

Hal stuck his head in through the open doorway and gave me a thumbs-up sign. I nodded and the men filed out of the control room and into the dining area for our impromptu celebration. Binkie came back into the control room carrying cold sodas and a platter full of hot taquitos for the men on monitor duty. He tossed my keys back to me and then acknowledged Bobby and Lester before turning to head back to the party.

"Binkie," I stopped him, "Go down to the 4th floor and knock on doors. Tell those guys we're having a party up here to celebrate our victory. No alcohol for them, though, if they're on the next shift."

"Hooah!" (_Translation: "Sure thing! No problem. Glad to help."_)

"Okay," Bobby said, "So what _**are**_ we going to do about Bomber?"

"Nothing tonight, that's for sure," I replied. "It's almost morning anyway. I sent Ranger to his room until he can be more sociable. Hopefully, he'll be less of a jerk after he's rested his worn-out brain. Other than that, I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens." Then I put my arms around both Bobby's and Lester's shoulders and pushed them toward the doorway. "Meanwhile, gentlemen, I hear a keg calling our names."

"Hooah!" Bobby and Lester exclaimed. (_Translation: "Damn skippy! Let's go!"_)

Before I could lift the first mug of beer up to my lips, my pager went off. One of our newer clients had accidentally tripped his home's security alarm and then panicked. He said he couldn't remember his special pass code and asked for someone from the company to come out in person to help him reset everything. It was after one o'clock in the morning, but Bobby hadn't had anything alcoholic to drink yet either, so he volunteered to tag along with me. I left specific instructions with Lester not to let the party get too wild.

On the drive over to our client's residence on the other side of the river, Bobby and I talked about Dr. O'Neill's upcoming visit. As the company's resident medic, Bobby spent a lot of time communicating with our assigned physician, trying to understand what El Lagarto's drug had done to our bodies. He even worked with Ella and Ranger to make sure that we mostly ate just the foods the doctor wanted us to eat. The latest news from Miami was somewhat encouraging.

"You heard about Silvio, right?" Bobby asked.

I nodded. We all knew that after Silvio reconciled with his wife, Juanita, she agreed to participate in both the 'natural' and the in vitro fertilization trials. The wife of one of the men who'd been on the first spec ops team sent in to shut down El Lagarto's lab recently gave birth to a healthy baby boy after going through the in vitro process. Everyone was excited about their success, but we knew we had a long way to go to become 'normal' again.

"Dr. O'Neill said that Juanita's pregnancy test just came back positive. Silvio's few sperm were viable after all. Hell, it only takes _**one**_ strong swimmer to make a baby, you know. That means there's more hope for the rest of us now, man - _**real**_ hope!"

Bobby was one of the few guys on our team who had a serious girlfriend. His lady, former Sergeant Vivian Turner had been an Army medic, too, but now she was going to medical school in Philadelphia. She was one of the main reasons Bobby wanted to join the Trenton branch of RangeMan when he got out of the Army; he wanted to be close to his girlfriend in the hope that he would be healed by the time she became a doctor and was ready to consider marriage and kids.

"Does Vivian know?" I asked Bobby. "I mean, have you ever tried to explain to her the way things are?"

"Yeah, Viv knows about me," he answered. "But that's fine for now because she's so busy with med school, she can't even think past the next day. Actually, Viv said she might ask permission to do a case study on us - well, me, anyway - when it's time for her to write her thesis. I think it would make a great paper, especially if she pursues her dream of becoming an OB/GYN doctor."

I was quiet as I thought about this for a few minutes. It was cute - and potentially heartbreaking - that Bobby was looking forward to a future with a woman who'd be delivering babies all the time. For his sake, I hoped Dr. O'Neill found a cure for all of us sooner, rather than later. Another thought suddenly occurred to me.

"I bet Ranger has never told Stephanie anything about the way things are," I said. "I bet she has no idea that some of us can't have kids."

"Did _**you**_ ever tell Lula?"

"Nah. Kids aren't an option for her - not after what that freak, Ramirez, did to her. Now it doesn't matter anyway, since we broke up."

"Sorry about that, man."

"Don't be. Marriage and kids don't really appeal to me. They never have."

"But you moved into that little house and everything, so I just thought ..."

"The cats and I, well, we like our privacy. My cats are cool. They aren't as needy as dogs - or women."

"Hooah." (_Translation: "I hear you loud and clear. No fuss, no muss, no issues."_)

Neither Bobby nor I said anything else during the rest of the drive out to the affluent neighborhood where our hysterical client lived. After we made sure that the property was secure, we coached the man through arming and disarming his security system several times until **_we_** were confident that he knew how to do it properly. Then Bobby and I rode back to Trenton in comfortable silence.

It was almost four-thirty in the morning by the time we dragged ourselves into the RangeMan control room. The party had been over for quite a while and everything was as clean and quiet as ever. I lumbered over to the GPS status monitor and stared at the information on the screen for a full minute. Every company vehicle was exactly where it should be, including the non-company car in which we all had the most interest. I finally looked over at Bobby and smiled.

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**A/N: I know this might sound weird, but I just can't seem to make myself type the f-word and the s-word quite as much as JE and many of you do. I've compromised as far as I feel comfortable, even though I used to swear like a sailor when I was on active duty. The people I know who've been in the military - like Ranger and Tank - still tend to use a lot of acronyms and abbreviations even when they've been off active duty for a while. Therefore, I plan to use more Army slang and a little less profanity than JE uses. I'll try to remember to translate as I go along. Please let me know if you don't understand a certain term. Again, thanks for reviewing! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: Thanks again for all the nice reviews! They're definitely keeping me motivated to post new work ASAP. It also helps that I live in northern Virginia and I'm currently snowed in with nothing better to do than to write. ;P Okay, now it's time for a change of scenery. I'm even taking a break from Army slang in this chapter. Just like Tank, Morelli has been pestering me for a vocal outlet. So, here it is. I truly hope you'll like it! :D**

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_Morelli stood. "You're hopeless. You were like this as a kid, too."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" _

_"You were nuts. You'd do anything. You used to jump off your father's garage, trying to fly."_

_"Didn't you ever try to fly?"_

_"No. Never. I knew I couldn't fly."_

_"That's because from the day you were born, you had a one-track mind."_

_Morelli grinned. "It's true. My interests were narrow." _

_Three to Get Deadly_

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**Chapter 4: The Other Man**

"Wake up, Steph. It's time to get up." I said, gently shaking her shoulder. "Game's over."

"Huh?" she said groggily and began to sit up on the couch. "Wh-what happened? Who won the game?"

"The Devils won, but the whole game sucked!" I exclaimed. "Neither team played like they even _**cared**_ about winning tonight. To make matters worse, I made a stupid bet with Dan Zelazny and now I'm gonna owe him lunch at Pino's. You know how much Dan sounds like a pig when he eats? It's disgusting!"

"What time is it?"

"Half past midnight," I said and I ran my finger around the neckline of her shirt. "C'mon, Cupcake, let's go upstairs. I've been dying to get this RangeMan outfit off your body ever since you showed up on my doorstep."

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, Joe, I can't stay. Not tonight. My father needs his cab first thing in the morning so he can pick up his regular Wednesday fares."

"You're not serious, are you?" I couldn't believe that she was thinking of going to her parents' house at this time of night, especially when my 'boys' really had been looking forward to having a good time with her.

"Yeah. I gotta go. I don't want a repeat of this morning." When she turned away from me to pick up her purse, I could see that her face had turned slightly red. She was blushing!

"What happened this morning?" I asked warily.

"Nothing," she replied too quickly. "It's just that - well, you know about my car exploding and Lula's car, too, right? I've got such bad car karma. So, anyway, I had the cab and I parked it in the RangeMan garage last night. Dad called me this morning and told me to pick up his rider, but I wasn't expecting to be up so early. I guess the events of the day finally caught up with me and now I'm really tired. You saw me - I couldn't even stay awake for the whole game and that hunk, Lundqvist, was playing goalie tonight. I can't believe I fell asleep while watching him!"

"You could fall asleep here and stay the rest of the night," I smiled wickedly at her, ignoring the fact that her babbling usually meant she was fibbing. "What I have in mind to do with you won't take a long time. I'll even set my alarm clock early enough for you to wake up and take the cab back home in time for your father's first fare of the day."

"Gee, that sounds so convenient - for you," she said sarcastically. "You know, maybe it would be best for me not to share a bed with _**anyone**_ tonight. Not you, not Ranger, not anyone."

_**Not Ranger**_? Did she realize that she'd said that out loud? I waited a full minute before I answered, trying to keep my voice and temper under control. "I thought you said you've been getting up early so that you'd be out of Ranger's bed when he finished working his double shifts. You told me you were sharing his bed, but that the two of you weren't in the bed at the same time."

"Yep. That's right."

"So then, what's all this about not wanting to share a bed with either me _**or**_ Ranger tonight?"

Steph shook her head. "Please, Joe, I'm too tired to talk about this now. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

Then she stood up and stretched. Her loose, black sweatpants fell down just a little and I caught a glimpse of the top band of her underwear. There, barely visible, in small magenta letters, was the word 'RangeMan'. Now she had _**his**_ name embroidered on her little black panties. Fury boiled through my veins.

"What the hell?" I yelled and yanked her sweatpants further down so that I could get a better look at the abominable logo.

Of course, she protested. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? Have you lost your mind?"

"No, _**I**_ haven't lost my mind, but _**you**_ clearly have! You've told me time and again that there's nothing going on between you and Ranger. But look here - you've got 'RangeMan' written on your **_panties_** and you still want me to believe there's nothing's going on? And you _**actually**_ want me to believe that you've been sharing Ranger's bed without _**anything**_ going on? Cripes! Do I look that stupid to you?"

Steph looked pissed off now and she angrily pulled her pants back up over her hips and adjusted her t-shirt, which also had RangeMan written on it. "If you'd just take a moment to calm down, you'd remember that _**we**_ had broken up. And then you might just remember that a couple of hitmen chasing after Lula _**firebombed**_ my apartment the other day. My staying over at Ranger's apartment really isn't such a big deal!" she protested. "He's my friend."

"_**I'm**_ your friend, too, but you don't have _**my**_ name written on every scrap of clothing you own."

"Quit overreacting, Joe! Jeez! It's not my fault - Ella, Ranger's housekeeper, has an embroidery machine and _**she's**_ the one who puts the logo on _**everything**_."

"Even your _**underwear**_?" I felt my voice rise up half an octave. "That's ridiculous!"

"Calm down. I _**said**_ it's no big deal." she reiterated. "They're just clothes, for crying out loud! It's not like _**Ranger**_ has a cow whenever I wear my Trenton PD t-shirt at _**his **_place."

My breath caught in my throat. "Wait - you wear your TPD shirt at Ranger's place?"

"Yeah? So?" She was glaring at me as though _**I**_ was messed up.

What my Cupcake didn't realize was that I _**knew**_ she only wore that particular shirt as pajamas because it was so soft from having been washed a million times. This meant that Ranger must have seen her wearing the shirt _**while**_ she'd been sleeping at his apartment. I don't care what Stephanie says; I know how sexy she looks in that t-shirt and there is _**no**_ _**way**_ Ranger could have kept his hands to himself all this time. I'd be a fool if I thought so - and I'm no fool.

It was at that moment that something became very clear to me. Stephanie Plum was up for grabs, whether she realized it or not. Ranger had moved in on my turf much further than I'd given him credit for and I could sense that he was on the verge of getting what he wanted. And then there was that nut job, Diesel, who always wreaked havoc when he came into town. I knew they both had the hots for Stephanie - in fact, everyone in my office joked about how it was only a matter of time before _**I**_ would become the 'other man' in her life.

I wanted to blame Ranger for this mess. I wanted to blame him for Steph's decision to become a bounty hunter. I wanted to blame him for her being in harm's way more than any person should go through in one lifetime. I wanted to blame him for my Cupcake's problems with commitment and for causing her to waver in her devotion to me. I truly wanted to blame Ranger for all those things and more, but I couldn't. The real problem is - and always has been - Stephanie.

I always knew she'd be a pain in my ass! I've been attracted to Stephanie Plum like a moth to the flame since we were kids. It's never made any sense to me, especially when I could've had any girl I wanted, and it still doesn't make any sense to me now. I even debated with myself to just walk away before I even started pursuing Steph. Regardless of how much I love having sex with her - and, God help me, I _**do**_ love it - I should've allowed my sensible self to win that argument. Now look where my 'boys' have landed me. It was time for all of us to wake up and face the truth.

"That's it, Steph," I said quietly. "I'm done."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"You know exactly what it means, Cupcake. I'm through with trying to make something happen with you. It's over. Finito!"

"Aww, Joe! It's too late at night and I'm way too tired to do this," she whined. "Weren't we still in the 'off' stage, anyway? I only came over to watch the game."

"Well, the game's over, so I guess you can take your little RangeMan-covered ass outta here."

"Why are you being such a jerk? Can't this wait until later?"

"No, it can't," I said as I began to pace. "There's been too much 'later' between us, Steph. I can't keep doing this back-and-forth crap with you anymore. It's time for you to decide who you want to be with - Ranger or me. You have to make a choice and stick with it."

"Right now? Is this some sort of ultimatum?"

I stopped pacing and stared at her. "Yeah, right now. We've been dragging this out for way too long, Cupcake."

She just stood there, looking angrier by the moment and yet she chewed on her lower lip as though she was nervous. Suddenly, I was disgusted with myself for thinking about how sexy she looked, even with all her RangeMan clothes on. Seconds felt like minutes and it became painfully obvious that she'd never be able to make the right decision. Besides, I'd already figured out Steph's answer when she didn't say anything right away. It was time for me to 'man up' and save us both from a lot more misery.

Somehow, after all this time, I thought my Cupcake and I could make it work. Never mind the endless arguments about her job, her bad luck with vehicles, and her _**life.**_ I mean, come on! She's a magnet for every kind of disaster known to man. And she'll _**never**_ be the kind of wife a guy like me needs. I've always known this, but I chose to ignore the facts for far too long. The sex might be the best I've ever had, but Steph isn't much of a housekeeper and she can barely fix a decent meal. When I'm totally honest with myself, the thought of bringing children into the world with her scares the crap out of me. I thought I could deal with the whole package, but I just can't see it happening anymore. So, I decided to make it easy for her.

"Okay, Steph," I began, "Forget choosing between me and Ranger. How about you just give up being a bounty hunter once and for all?"

"Oh no, not _**this**_ again!"

"Humor me. Would you quit working for Vinnie if I asked you nicely?"

"I ... um ... I don't know."

"Okay, then, let's try _**this**_ one on for size - would you quit working for **_Ranger_** if I asked you nicely?"

"Joe, please! Not now."

Steph's eyes had welled up with tears, but there was still more than a hint of anger behind them. I needed to focus on her anger - both past and present - in order to see this through to the end. I only hoped that we'd be able to remain civil towards each other afterward. Hating myself for forcing her hand like this, I knew I had to 'go in for the kill' - it was now or never.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time, Cupcake - _**please**_ give up your job. Marry me. Have babies with me and settle down. I'll be real good to you - you know that. We could build a nice life together here in the Burg."

This was difficult for both of us. Although I realized I should have waited for a better time, I just wanted to get it over with now. There really never would be a good time for this discussion, anyway. Steph's mouth dropped open and I waited for her to say something, but no sounds came out. The tears silently slid down her face and I knew her true answer.

Watching the emotions play across her face, I desperately wanted to hold her in my arms and kiss her sweet lips. But I knew that my time with my Cupcake was coming to an end. If I touched her at all, I might not have the strength to let her go. Somewhere along the line, Stephanie had shifted her alliance - and probably her love - to Ranger and even **_she_** hadn't realized it yet.

It didn't matter to me whether or not they had 'done the deed' yet; I refused to share her with him any longer. Stephanie was dangerously attracted to Ranger and if he wanted her so badly, he could have her. But I'd certainly let Ranger know that, just like he had warned me many times, I would be watching _**him**_ now to make sure he'll treat Steph right. Of course, _**unlike**_ Ranger, _**I**_ wouldn't resort to any low-down poaching. There's no way I was going to be the 'other man' in this new scenario.

"Don't worry, Cupcake; it's gonna be alright," I finally said. "C'mon, I'll follow you home to make sure you get there safely. You look beat."

Stephanie only nodded. My guess was that she was in shock over the way this night had turned out. To tell the truth, I think I was in shock, too. Nevertheless, I picked up Rex's cage and took it out to her father's cab for her. I'd never understood why Ranger hung around, waiting for my off-and-on relationship with Steph to stay in the 'off' position permanently, but I guess his patience will have finally paid off this time. When I saw Steph's overflowing grocery bag of her clothes in the back seat, I realized that she'd really left Ranger's place, too. Still, I had my pride. There was no going back now.

Once Steph was safely inside her parents' house, I waved at her and then I drove away. Although I still considered Ranger to be a loose cannon, I knew for a fact that he had saved Steph's life more times than could be expected of any normal man. He's even killed bad guys to prevent them from harming her, but she doesn't know about that. Of course, if Ranger hadn't shown Steph how to be a bounty hunter in the first place, then maybe she wouldn't have been in so many dangerous situations. Now, for his sake, I hope the poor bastard possesses a deep well of patience, as well as a lot of great health and property insurance. Ranger definitely will need those things if he hopes to survive his relationship with Stephanie Plum.

As for me, I realize that it might take a while for the pain to go away, but this is the way it has to be. I've known my Cupcake practically all my life. She gave me everything she could and I took way more than she offered, but I wanted to be the center of her universe and that just wasn't going to happen. At least, not in this lifetime.

Oddly enough, as I drove back through the quiet Burg to my house, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. Even though she'd never warm _**my**_ bed again, Stephanie Plum was no longer my problem, either. Hopefully, she would find happiness out there - possibly even with Ranger. Now, I wonder where I hid my little black book...

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A/N: Okay, for the sake of full disclosure I must confess that I like Morelli. In fact, I'm related to some men who resemble the guy - perhaps not so much in appearance (I'm a woman of color), but certainly in attitude. And I can understand the whole 'parental-pressure-to-marry-someone-familiar syndrome' that Stephanie has had to endure throughout the series. If my mother had had her way, I'd be married to a great guy I've known since high school, even though he was entirely wrong for me. No one would've put me together with my husband of sixteen years (he's very pale). No one! But we're quite happy with each other, even after two kids and lots of military relocations. No matter how 'tame' Morelli's become, I just don't think he's right for Stephanie. It seems to me, unfortunately, that JE is leaning in Joe's direction. Please tell me what you think. Thanks! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: Once again, I am overwhelmed by your response to my story so far. I apologize for being a bit behind on responding to your wonderfully generous reviews and I hope to catch up soon, but I've been writing like a fiend whenever I can. My kids had a snow day and the government was closed, so my whole family stayed home and helped me wrap Christmas gifts for our extended family. This was a good deal for me because I usually wrap everything by myself. Then I was able to write this chapter. Yay snow! ^_^ Now it's time to hear from Stephanie. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger was the second biggest complication in my life, and now that Morelli was out of the picture, I supposed Ranger was elevated to numero uno.

_Finger Lickin' Fifteen_

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Chapter 5: A Free Woman

The alarm clock went off at seven o'clock in the morning and although I knew I should get up before Grandma Mazur locked me out of the bathroom, I just lay there, motionless in my bed. I could hear the sounds of my mother fixing breakfast for my father. I could smell the bacon frying and I realized my mother was making cinnamon rolls, too. Staring up at the very familiar ceiling, I pondered my current situation. If my life was a board game, then it felt as though my game piece had just been sent back to square one.

Alright, I told myself, let's take an assessment. I have no house. My apartment wouldn't be fixed up from the latest firebombing for at least another week and that's why I was lying on my old bed, in my old bedroom, in my parents' house - again. I have no car. It also was the victim of a firebomb and it would take another day or so for my insurance check to arrive so that I could buy another P.O.S. car to drive. I have no boyfriend, not even the on-again-off-again type. If I was to believe what Morelli had said last night - and I most certainly did - then he and I were permanently 'off' and there'd be no turning back. It was official; I was now a free woman.

Silent tears slid down my cheeks and seeped into my pillow. God, I was such loser! I've failed at marriage. I've failed at my career. I've failed at being Joe's girlfriend. I've failed at becoming the kind of daughter of which my mother could be proud. How did this happen to me? I couldn't help wondering if I'd been a total loser in a previous life, too. What if I kept coming back as a loser and the cycle never ended?

"Stephanie!" My mother called from the bottom of the stairs, breaking into my melancholy thoughts. "Stephanie? Are you coming down for breakfast? If you want your father to take you to work so you can get the Buick, you'd better come to the table now."

Sighing tiredly, I swiped at the tears, propelled myself out of bed and pulled on my black RangeMan outfit from the previous night. I was beginning to see the wisdom of Ranger's preferred colors; as long I didn't spill powdered sugar or vanilla pudding on myself, I could wear the same clothes for an indefinite period of time and no one would notice the difference. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I went downstairs, fed my hamster, Rex, and then sat at the kitchen table - just as I done throughout my entire youth and, sadly, much of my adulthood. Free woman, my ass!

"My goodness, Stephanie!" My mother exclaimed when she saw me. "Did you **_sleep_** in those clothes? I just can't imagine how Ranger can stand to see you looking like something the cat dragged in."

"No, Mom, I didn't sleep in these clothes," I answered, as I dug into a pile of hot scrambled eggs. It wasn't a big fib; I'd only slept in the shirt, not the pants or anything else. "Really, Mom, this outfit is perfectly fine, which is why I like working at RangeMan. I'll be sitting at my desk in my cubicle all day long, concentrating on my work. I guarantee you that _**no one**_ is going to care what my clothes look like."

Besides, knowing Ranger, he'd probably prefer that I traipse up to his apartment and wear nothing at all. And now that Joe was out of the picture for good, maybe I'd do just that. A mere twenty-four hours earlier, I had vaulted out of Ranger's bed and sidestepped his promise to "be so good to you, you won't need to concentrate." Maybe I _**should**_ take him up on his offer. Maybe I'd held off the inevitable long enough. Maybe it was time to 'take a walk on the wild side' with Ranger. Needless to say, I had _**no**_ intention of discussing this with my mother.

Actually, I didn't even plan on mentioning to her that Joe and I had broken up for good this time. It would be much too painful and I wasn't in the mood for any more misery this morning. I knew what I was in for later, and it wouldn't be pretty.

First of all, my mother and Grandma Mazur would grill me to death. Then my mother would lecture me about every little thing I could've and should've done differently to hold on to what she saw was my last hope for a respectable life in the Burg. As it was, she'd probably wring my neck once the neighborhood grapevine got hold of the news; but, with any luck, I might have at least a day or two of peace before all hell broke loose in the Plum household - and elsewhere. I'd definitely have to hide from Joe's Grandma Bella so she wouldn't curse me for breaking her favorite grandson's heart.

Right then, I decided that a trip to Point Pleasant was in order. Yes, today was the perfect day for going into deep denial. I was a free woman, after all, and I could do as I pleased. I'd solved Ranger's break-in problem and he had helped me capture all of my skips, so I rationalized that I _**deserved**_ a little break today. Besides, it was overcast and chilly - the perfect sort of early November day for having the beach all to myself.

I quickly finished my breakfast before my mother could start asking more questions about my day. Then I went upstairs to brush my teeth and put on an extra swipe of mascara. My hair didn't matter because it would stay tucked up under my black RangeMan cap all day. My mother had wrapped two extra cinnamon rolls in wax paper and she slid them into my jacket pocket as I ran past her, grabbed my purse and followed my father out to his cab.

"I heard you tell your mother that you like working at RangeMan because you can dress like a bum," my father said when he was one block away from the seven-story building. "Is that true? And do you really like working there better than working for your Cousin Vinnie?"

I nodded. "RangeMan has a fairly casual dress code; everything just has to be black. Oh, and I'll still be a bounty hunter for Vinnie's agency, Dad. It's just that my work at RangeMan is safer and much more constant than what I've been doing up until now _**and**_ I'm getting solid, honest-to-goodness benefits like health and dental. I certainly appreciate the fact that Vinnie gave me a job when I really needed one, but catching skips is going to become more like a ... a part-time job because I truly need a reliable income right now."

"Are things that bad?"

"No, no! I'm not having a crisis or anything," I said, not wanting my father to worry. "But you know that, well, the way my cars keep getting destroyed, my insurance rates are astronomical. I'm lucky if I can convince someone to let me buy decent coverage, and then they make me pay through the nose. Also, it would be nice to be able to afford something that's in better condition than what I've been driving lately."

"I agree with you on that," my father nodded. "Let me know if you need help with the money, okay?"

"Thanks, Dad. Like I said, it shouldn't be a problem now that I'm working at RangeMan. I'll be fine." I was surprised that I was able to speak with a lot more confidence than I felt at that precise moment.

My father dropped me off in front of the garage entrance and I used my key fob to lift the gate. Waving at the cameras, I sashayed into the elevator and made my way up to the fifth floor. It was important for me to appear to be my normal, upbeat self. One false move and Ranger would know that something was troubling me and I didn't think I was ready to talk to him yet about my break-up with Morelli. The guys on the monitors smiled at me as I passed by their stations, but they seemed more tired than usual.

"Looking good, Beautiful," said Lester, as I entered the control room and headed toward my cubicle. "I trust you slept well last night?"

That was odd. Lester almost sounded like he was proud of me. I just smiled back at him and answered, "Sure, Lester. After all, it's the same bed I've had since I was a kid. I sleep like a baby when I'm at my parents' house. Doesn't that happen to you when you visit your parents?"

"Nah," Lester shook his head and followed me to my cubicle. "As soon as I left home, my younger sisters turned my old room into a pink 'princess palace' with lacy curtains and stuffed animals everywhere. Whenever I go back to Newark, I have to sleep on the couch in the den. It's better if I can crash at my Tio Ricky's house. I'm tellin' ya', Ranger's parents know how to treat guests right."

"Ranger's parents?"

"Yeah, his parents. Everybody has 'em, you know - even Ranger." Lester flashed me his usual flirtatious smile before he continued. "I know it's hard to imagine, but no one calls him Ranger at home. There, he's definitely Carlos - _**Carlito**_ to his sisters, but don't you dare call him that, if you value your life."

Intrigued by this tiny peek into Ranger's private life, I asked, "Are his sisters all older than him?"

Ranger was such a private person, that I relished every opportunity to learn more about the Man of Mystery. I didn't let on that Ranger had taken me to his old neighborhood once, to canvas for witnesses when Edward Scrog had kidnapped Ranger's daughter, Julie. We were avoiding his family at the time, but he'd told me about his Grandma Rosa and how she didn't speak English. He'd also mentioned his siblings in passing when a crime-scene investigator asked about his sister Celia's well-being. It wasn't fair that Ranger knew practically everything about me, but I knew next to nothing about him.

"Ranger is the youngest of six kids," Lester replied. "His sister Celia is the oldest, and man! She makes sure everyone knows it, too. Then there's his brother Nestor, then Maria, Teresa, and Elena - the unholy trio. They made Carlos' young life miserable. Since they couldn't overpower Celia or Nestor, they resorted to bossing their baby brother around."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I just can't imagine **_anyone_** bossing Ranger around, Lester."

"Believe me, Beautiful, that's part of the reason he doesn't go home very often." Lester looked somewhat saddened by his own comment. "We're all adults now, but sometimes, when we all gather together, the old patterns emerge. I know this sounds strange, but getting sent to juvie and then down to Miami was probably the best thing that could have happened to Ranger. Otherwise, he might never have broken free. His family almost sucked him back into their routines when he came up here for college, but by then I had entered the Army and I thought Carlos would do well to join me. The rest, as they say, is history."

"Speaking of Ranger, where is he?" I said, popping up out of my chair to peer over the top edge of my cubicle. "Surely I haven't beaten our boss into the office today?"

Lester barked his laughter and said, "Hell, no! You weren't even close to beating him! In fact, Ranger came in early and then he dashed out like a cat with his tail on fire. He didn't even stop by to check the monitors like he usually does every morning. He just grabbed some files off of his desk and said that he had a lead on a high-dollar skip. Ram went with him and I expect they'll be gone all morning."

"Gee, and here I was hoping to talk to him," I said and then I giggled when I spied Hector nodding off. He'd almost fallen completely out of his chair. I turned back to Lester and asked, "Why does everyone look so tired today? Even _**you've**_ got dark circles under your eyes."

Lester winced. "Sorry, Beautiful. I guess we owe you an apology. You see, we had a little party here last night to celebrate the fact that we'd caught those nasty kids who tried to ruin us. It lasted way into the wee hours and I was one of the 'lucky' guys who drew the short straws and had to work the morning shift."

"A party? And no one invited me?" I was somewhat surprised and a little hurt that they'd left me out.

"We would've called you and told you to come back and join us, but it looked like you were ... um, otherwise occupied for a while."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your ... ah ... stopover." Lester looked embarrassed. "You know - when you left here, you said you were gonna take your father's cab home, but you ... but you went straight to the cop's house. We saw your GPS signal on the monitor and figured that you wouldn't want to be ... interrupted."

I was taken aback. I knew that, for my own safety, Ranger and his Merry Men attempted to monitor my every move, but it never occurred to me that they'd assume they knew what was going on when I was at Morelli's house. Okay, so they probably had an inkling of an idea. Who was I trying to fool? Of _**course **_they thought they had me figured out. Damn! They must think I'm the worst kind of woman, bouncing back and forth between Ranger and Morelli all this time. Now _**I**_ felt really embarrassed.

"Lester ... I ... it's not what you think." I tried to explain.

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, Beautiful, it's not my place to judge. Besides, you didn't **_stay_** at the cop's house overnight. We all saw that, too. In fact, everybody got real happy when they saw that you had continued on to your parent's house."

Ugh! Mental head slap. My life was an open book to these guys. I leaned in close to Lester, grasping at the opportunity to salvage a bit of my reputation with at least **_one _**of the Merry Men.

"Can I tell you something in confidence?" When he nodded, I quietly continued, "I won't be going back to Slater Street very often, except maybe to sometimes take care of the dog when Joe's working undercover. Morelli and I broke up last night. It's for good this time. I'm a free woman, Lester - totally free."

He whistled softly. "Does Ranger know that's what you were going there to do last night?"

"No," I shook my head. "In fact, _**I**_ didn't know that's what I was going there to do either. We started out just watching the hockey game and then, well, one thing led to another and Joe broke up with me." Even though I was being very open about my life at that moment, I _**wasn't**_ going tell Lester about the underwear incident.

Lester took a moment and looked deeply into my eyes, which now, to my horror, were filling up with tears. "Are you okay?" He finally asked.

I shrugged. "I will be." I blinked back the tears and forced them to remain unshed. When I got to the beach, I would release them, but not a moment sooner.

"Hey, that's _**his**_ loss, Beautiful," Lester reassured me. "I'm glad you told me and I promise I won't say a word about it to Ranger until after you do, okay? My lips are sealed." And he made the gesture of zipping his lips together. "So, have you already eaten breakfast?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Yep. My mom fixed bacon and eggs for me this morning - and cinnamon rolls." After our heart-to-heart chat, it felt sort of selfish to not offer Lester one of my cinnamon rolls, but I had big lunch plans for them.

"Damn, Stephanie! You know Ranger never let's us have bacon up in here. I'd just about _**kill**_ for some bacon," he said half-jokingly, which helped to lighten the mood. "Hey! Since you're a quote-unquote _**free woman **_now, can I come home with you sometime? Just feed me lots of bacon and I'll be your slave for life!" Then he flashed me one of his sexy, flirtatious smiles.

I laughed and shook my head at Lester's antics. Both he and I knew that Ranger wouldn't consider me to be _**that **_free and I certainly needed some time to sort out my feelings about the whole situation. With Ranger out of the office, I wouldn't have any guilty feelings about playing hooky today. I thought about leaving him a note, but I knew that my GPS tracker would inform him of my location and I was fine with that. I just needed to breathe the salt air for a while and clear my head.

"Where're you goin'?" Lester asked when he noticed that I was packing up to leave. "You just got here."

I turned off my computer and said, "I'm going to check in with Connie at the bail bonds office and after that I ..." I hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to lie to Lester, but then I decided to tell the truth for a change. "I'll be out at Point Pleasant. I've got some heavy thinking to do and the beach is one of my favorite places for that sort of thing."

"Okay, Beautiful, but be careful out there or else Ranger will bust all our asses and, personally, I don't like spending that much time in the ER."

I grinned at him and said, "Don't worry; my cell phone is fully charged and I promise to keep it turned on. I've also got my gun - _**and **_bullets and all the other crap Ranger wants me to carry with me. I know you're tracking me, too, and I'm sure everything will be fine. When Ranger gets back, tell him I'll be a good girl tomorrow and put in a full day's work. I'll even work overtime."

Lester leaned in close and whispered, "Just in case Ranger kills me for letting you go out like this, can I have a kiss? It might be the last nice thing I'll ever remember before I die."

I laughed again and playfully kissed the top of Lester's head, glad that I'd chosen to confide in him. Ranger's cousin was an outrageous flirt and I was beginning to wonder if that trait ran in their family, but he also was becoming a good friend. Hefting my big purse onto my shoulder, I turned off my desk lamp and walked toward the doorway.

"I'd tell you to have fun," I called over my shoulder, "but as you said, you partied without me last night. So there!" I childishly stuck out my tongue at Lester and then quickly made my escape. Yes, I, Stephanie Plum, was now a free woman - _**not**_ a loser, but a free woman. And, damn it, **_this_** time, I was gonna learn how to fly!

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A/N: Okay, I just found out that my kids have two more snow days, which means they're officially on winter break until after the New Year begins. Unfortunately, I was counting on them being in school until the middle of the week so that I could wrap their Christmas presents without them seeing me. Ugh! Now I'll have to stay up later and finish the job after they go to sleep. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed hearing from Stephanie this time. It's back to Ranger's POV in the next chapter. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season! Santa was very good to me and my family this year. I was able to write a lot during the road trips to see my folks and the in-laws, too. ^_^ I'm introducing a few new sub-plots into this story to add a bit of action, but they won't take up too much time. Anyway, this chapter is in Ranger's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger and I have a strange relationship. He's my mentor and protector and friend. He's also hot and mysterious and oozes testosterone. A while ago, he was my lover for a single spectacular night. We both walked away wanting more, but to date, my practical Burg upbringing plus strong survival instincts have kept Ranger out of my bed. This is in direct contrast to Ranger's instincts. His instincts run more to keeping his eye on the prize while he enjoys the chase and waits for his chance to move in for the kill. He is, after all, a hunter of men ... and women.

_Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 6: Soldier of Fortune

I don't believe in coincidences. Sure, there are odd occurrences and unusual resolutions to problems, but by and large, most of these events have a logical explanation. I _**do**_ believe that things happen the way they happen for a specific reason, even when I can't figure out that reason at first glance. Sometimes, people who possess natural talents and abilities are able to do extraordinary things. And sometimes, those extraordinary things _**seem**_ to be coincidences.

An example of a person who can do extraordinary things is Stephanie's friend, Diesel, who works for an international agency with loose ties to some of our own government's agencies. He and others like him possess certain 'unmentionable' skills, such as the ability to create lightning storms or to give people rashes or, as in Diesel's case, the ability to strip others of their particular unmentionable skills. Really, they can do these things and, trust me; it's very freaky to observe them in action. My own special talents and abilities are far more normal in comparison.

I am a natural-born hunter. It's not bragging when I say that I can find anyone, anywhere - even if he or she does not want to be found. Nothing can stand between and my quarry - not oceans, not armed bodyguards, and certainly not locked doors. If I want to find a person, I will accomplish my mission by any means necessary. Sometimes, even I can't explain exactly _**how**_ I'm able to locate and apprehend people, but it's what I do best.

My cousin, Lester, thinks that it was _**his**_ idea for me to join the Army; however, certain federal agencies were already trying to find a legitimate way to tap into my special abilities while I was still in college. I had taken what I believed at the time to be a 'personality test' for one of my psychology classes. The workings of the human psyche have always been intriguing to me and I took every psychology elective the school would allow me to cram into my two years of university attendance. Since that time, I've had a lot more training that's not available to the general public.

Anyway, all the students in the 'Applied Psychology' course at Rutgers University completed the same seemingly benign test. In reality, it was a 'special skills' assessment, designed to identify those of us who possess the talents and abilities most helpful to a network of mostly clandestine government agencies. Apparently, the results of my assessment generated a lot of interest and I later discovered that several agencies fought over who would be allowed to recruit me into their ranks.

The 'powers that be' decided that having a record of military service would be most beneficial for me, and since I already had a close relative clamoring for me to join him on his patriotic adventure, the Army got to have me first. Special Operations training gave me the right kind of 'cover story' to suit the other agencies' purposes and has enabled me to continue doing the things I do best in the service of my country. After my active duty military commitment was over, becoming a bounty hunter and then the part-owner of a security company, solidified my public classification as a 'Soldier of Fortune', but rest assured, my duties and responsibilities go way deeper than that.

Don't get me wrong, I _**earn**_ every penny of the fees my government handlers pay me - and there are lots and lots and lots of pennies in my bank account. But I admit that I do like to live well: My properties are filled with high-priced furniture, state-of-the-art computers and security systems; my cars are top-of-the-line; and my closets are filled with nice clothes and accessories. I've come a long way from my humble roots in Newark, but try as I might, I just can't seem to break away from the ties that bind me to New Jersey.

One of the major ties binding me here is Stephanie Plum. The more time I spend with her, the tighter the bindings become and I can't figure out how to loosen them. I've tried to stay away from her and I've tried to push her away from me, but God help me, I love my Babe more than anyone else in this messed-up world of ours. I know that my way of life is filled with far too much uncertainty to give her the kind of home and family she'd like to have. However, after last night, I was pretty sure I'd finally succeeded in pushing her into the arms of a good man who can offer her a much more stable and fulfilling life - for good, this time.

Interestingly enough, Stephanie is one of those people who really wants and needs to believe that superheroes do exist. She'd like to believe that, not only do_** I **_associate with such beings, but that I might possibly _**be**_ one of them, too. I'm not going to dash her dreams yet, but the truth is actually much simpler: It's just that I'm very, very, very good at what I do. If that seems superhuman to my Babe, well then, so be it.

Today, though, I'm not feeling very superhuman. Regardless of my hollow 'victories' yesterday, I felt terrible. Thanks to Stephanie, I learned the depth of my embarrassment over the fact that two runty kids almost toppled my security business. Thanks to Stephanie, my men saw my weakness as I stood there in the control room, unable to tear myself away from the monitor that showed where she had decided to spend the night. Thanks to Stephanie, my thoughts and feelings were in total disarray. Thanks to Stephanie, I've taken more cold showers than a man ought to have to endure in one lifetime.

However, to be completely fair, thanks to Stephanie, I also got my first real lead on a federal fugitive who's been on the run for almost twenty years and I was going to be hot on John Cantrell's trail until I brought him in. When I first started working with Stephanie as her mentor in bounty hunting, I didn't realize that she possesses special talents and abilities of her own in the area of finding people. Although her skills are somewhat different from mine, she's got some of the best instincts - and luck - I've ever seen. Occasionally, I'll hire her on at RangeMan - sometimes because she needs the steady income and sometimes because I just like to have her working near me. It's truly amazing to me the way that my Babe is able to see the connections between people, places and events that everyone else misses.

Yesterday afternoon, before Stephanie returned from that FUBAR barbeque contest, I discovered her notes on John Cantrell's file. This guy had been on the run from the feds for such a long time, I was amazed that she'd even managed to wade through to his thick, but dusty file. Originally, Cantrell was arrested for securities fraud, as well as tax evasion. He'd disappeared as soon as he was bonded out, and then the investigators discovered that the man had murdered his business partner, too. His case file was still open, even though his trail had been cold for two decades.

My Babe uncovered the fact that Cantrell's ex-wife and her mother were well-known artisans who created beautiful jewelry with polished stones, shells and sea-glass at their small shop in Point Pleasant. The older woman recently had passed away, leaving the business and all its assets to her daughter, who had remarried long ago. Her name was now Susanna Cafferty and she was now the sole proprietor of the successful beach jewelry shop. There also was a newspaper announcement clipped to the file indicating that Susanna Cafferty's oldest daughter would be getting married this upcoming weekend. Steph's written notes said that she'd bet anything that the father of the bride would try to be there - maybe even in disguise - for his daughter's big day.

Quite frankly, I was amazed when I saw the connections that my Babe had made. With a few computer keystrokes and her uncanny ability to see what others missed, Steph had played 'connect-the-dots' and come up with a very plausible prediction. Here was this guy, this long-time fugitive, who had fallen off the radar of practically every other investigator and bounty hunter and _**she**_ might have found him, in her own, uncanny way.

Now that my own personal 'radar' was activated, I sensed that Cantrell probably had been hiding in plain sight for all this time. I decided that it was time to take a closer look around Point Pleasant to see if my quarry was there already, standing by to attend his daughter's wedding. My internal tracking system was humming with energy, so I knew that the possibility was very high that I'd find him soon, maybe even today.

It was late - 0630 hours (_6:30 a.m._) - when I finally dragged my sorry self out of bed to start my day. I had decided to play it cool when I went down to my office. I was only going to speed through the control room, grab the Cantrell file off of my desk and head out. Since Tank hadn't called me, I wasn't in the mood to check the monitors and verify that Stephanie had spent the night with Morelli. I had decided to deal with that situation later - _**much**_ later.

The men on deck in the control room got very quiet when I appeared in the doorway, but that was normal. I always hired a lot of former soldiers - many were from the Army Ranger Regiment to which I had been assigned for many years. My ex-military employees were accustomed to giving me the respect required by my rank, and the ones who'd never been in the service soon learned to follow along. I saw on the roster that Lester was the man in charge this morning, but I didn't spot him right away.

Everyone in the control room looked tired, probably from partying late into the night, but none of the guys on shift appeared to be hung-over. That was a good thing, because my employees knew that I didn't tolerate that sort of thing when they were on duty. At RangeMan, you showed up for work clean and sober, or else you were dismissed from my presence until you were fit for duty.

Locking eyes with one of my newer men, Binkie, whose real name was Benjamin Ink, I motioned for him to come into my office. With a name like that, kids must have been pretty harsh on Binkie when he was growing up, but that just made him tough and he became an Army explosives technician. Binkie had seen a lot of action during his one tour of Afghanistan before he came off of active duty and I was glad to have him on my team. Besides, he was the only one in the control room who looked like he'd had a good night's sleep.

"SitRep!" I barked at him. Usually I got the updated situation report from the shift leader in the control room while I scanned the monitors, but I didn't feel like having the evidence of my heartache slap me in the face this morning.

"Hooah, sir." (_"Yessir. Right away, sir."_) Binkie replied, "All systems are fully operational and looking good. I heard that things got a little bit wild here last night, but everything's quiet now. I was at my girlfriend's house, so I missed out on all the fun."

"You have a girlfriend nearby?" I asked. Although I generally stayed out my men's off-duty business, it was always good to know about their personal ties in the local area. You never knew when one of those connections might come in handy.

"Yessir," Binkie answered with a big grin. "Denise lives in here Trenton - in a neighborhood she calls the Burg. You know where I'm talking about, sir?"

"Hooah." (_"Better than __**you**__ ever will."_)

"I met her when I started taking those classes at the community college. And you know what, sir? You were right; it's really not that hard to do the work now. I'd never have been able to focus on classroom assignments if I'd gone to college right out of high school. I'm having a good time, learning a lot and meeting some great people, too."

"Like Denise?"

"Hooah." (_"Oh yeah!"_) Binkie blushed and nodded. Despite his height and stature, the young man didn't look like he was a day over eighteen. I knew for a fact, though, that he really was twenty-two years old. Damn! Either I was getting older too fast, or the guys that Tank and I hired were getting out of the Army at a younger age. I usually advised the men to use their free time to start working on their college education as soon as they could do so and several of them were close to graduating already.

"Glad to hear you're doing well in night school. You'll earn your degree in no time. Is there anything else I should know about?"

"I don't think so, sir, but Lester probably knows more about what happened during the party and where everybody is right now and all. He just stepped out to get some coffee. He came in looking like he _**really**_ needed it bad this morning."

"I'll bet he did." Knowing my cousin, he'd probably pumped beer directly from the keg into his mouth at some point during last night's party. I was going to have to hammer him hard if he really wasn't fit for duty. But Binkie didn't need to witness that potential bit of ugliness, so I dismissed him from my office. "Thanks, Binkie. Send Lester in to see me ASAP - I'm ready to head out for the day and I need to speak to him before Ram and I leave the building."

"Hooah!"

A few minutes later, Lester sauntered into my office and sat down across from me. He had a big, goofy grin on his face and for some reason it felt like he was directing it at me. I really wasn't in the mood to play his little mind games today, so I growled, "That better not be an 'I'm-still-kinda-drunk' expression on your face or you're outta here, Santos. I'm not kidding! Regardless of your current disposition, you and I have an appointment on the mats when I return."

"Hey! I just needed coffee, that's all." He said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "What are you so _**cranky**_ about, mi primo? I thought you'd be happy this morning." Lester was still grinning. He rarely ever referred to me as his cousin when we were on duty, so this annoyed me even more.

"Why would I be happy?" I grumbled as I gathered the pertinent paperwork. "I'll probably be outside most of the day. The temperature is dropping. The sky is overcast and gray. And I'm going after a high-dollar skip who's extremely good at not being found."

"Yeah, but once your Beautiful Bombshell shows up for work, I bet _**she'll**_ put a smile on your face. She always does."

"That's a bet you'd lose today." And I moved faster, stuffing my gear into a black knapsack along with a few other files to work through if Cantrell's trail turned out to be a dead end. There was no way I intended to still be here when Steph came in. I'd finally realized that I needed to put more space between us, especially if she was going to continue working for me. A trip down to Miami for the next couple of weeks would serve me well, but escaping the office immediately became my number one goal at that moment.

"Wait a minute," Lester grabbed my arm as I tried to brush past him. "Tank didn't call you this morning, did he?"

I only glared at Lester and wrenched my arm free from his grasp.

"Aw, man!" He looked down at the floor and shook his head. "Tank was so tired, he probably just forgot. I just realized that he didn't log out of here until almost five in the morning. And then the shift changed while he and Bobby were out on that trouble call across the river, so the current crew doesn't have any idea about the ... um ... situation last night. Damn! I'm sorry Ranger; one of us should have called you no matter what time it was."

"If you're trying to tell me something, _**mi primo**_, then you'd best say it outright," I spat. Like I said, I wasn't in the mood for any guessing games.

Lester looked directly into my angry eyes and quietly said, "She went home, Carlos. It was late when Stephanie left the cop's house, but she stayed at her parents' place the rest of the night. In fact, she's still there. If you had bothered to check the monitors this morning, you would have seen it for yourself."

I hesitated for a moment and then I bellowed down the hallway, "Ram! Let's go!" I ignored the confused expression on Lester's face and hurried into the waiting elevator. My men - Lester included - had seen enough displays of my emotions in the past twenty-four hours. I wasn't about to let them see another one, good or bad.

We arrived at Point Pleasant in less than an hour. The air was heavy with mist, but there were patches of blue sky peeking through the clouds. The weather looked like it could go either way - it could turn to slop or it might just clear up. Still, my mood was as heavy as the mist and I almost preferred wind and rain. I doubted that sunshine and clear skies would make me feel any better.

My life felt topsy-turvy at the moment. Sure, it was nice to know that Steph hadn't stayed overnight at Morelli's house, but I had no idea what actually had happened between them. Lester might think it was good news that she was at her parents' house, but that was no guarantee that she wasn't back with Morelli. I was **_not_** going to allow myself to feel one way or the other until I knew for sure.

Ram had the task of driving so that I could memorize the information in Cantrell's file. His photo showed an average-looking guy with brown hair and gray eyes. No one would have pegged him to become a murderer. In fact, John Cantrell had appeared to be completely trustworthy, which was how he and his long-dead partner had been able to swindle a lot of elderly people out of their life-savings.

The reward on this guy's head was over a million dollars, so the thought of capturing him gave me visions of handing out very generous bonuses to my employees at Christmastime. I'd probably give Steph an even bigger bonus because she was the one who figured out that Cantrell had returned to the area. I only hoped that she would accept the money in good faith and use it to buy herself a car that wasn't a P.O.S. wreck. I had to clamp down hard on such thoughts, though, because thinking about my Babe felt too uncomfortable at the moment.

Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I scanned the nearly deserted streets. Ram and I drove around for a while before we settled into a good location to watch the few people going in and out of the little shops and boutiques that populated the seaside town. After the summer crowds went away, the only patrons of these businesses were the avid bargain shoppers and other city folk looking for unique and unusual gifts. Since the weather so uncertain, there wasn't much action all morning long. I was frustrated with boredom, but I sensed that something big was going to happen - I just couldn't narrow down a timeframe.

After we ate the lunches we had brought with us, I noticed something odd happening in front of Susan Cafferty's jewelry shop: A young woman went into and came out of the neat, white clapboard building four times. Each time she exited the shop, she'd pace up and down the sidewalk, waving her hands in the air and muttering to herself, before opening the door and going back inside. The final time she came outside, she had a small brown dog clipped to a leash and she looked very upset. Then she hurried down the empty street, walking her pet toward the beach.

A full hour passed and the young woman and her dog hadn't returned to the shop. I was almost ready to give up on watching this location when a bearded man exited the jewelry shop and strolled down the street in the same direction as the young woman. He was wearing a fleece pullover, jeans and Teva sandals and he seemed to know where he was going. His hair and beard were almost all gray and he was wearing dark sunglasses so I couldn't really see his facial features. For a moment, I wondered if he was just another local artisan, but my internal radar was humming louder than ever - and my gut told me to follow after him.

I directed Ram to park closer to the boardwalk and we both got out of the SUV. It was easier than I thought it would be to track the bearded man. He was following a set of footprints in the sand - no doubt they belonged to the young woman and her dog. Ram and I then followed the man's footprints. The sounds of the crashing waves and the wind covered our footsteps and he never noticed us gaining ground behind him.

In the distance, I could see two women sitting on the beach, sharing a blanket and staring out at the waves. The young woman from the shop was the one closest to us, but she blocked my view of the other woman. Suddenly, her little brown dog broke away from her and ran toward the bearded man, barking and growling as he drew nearer. Then several things happened at once.

The young woman got up from the blanket and ran after her dog. When she reached the bearded man, she flung herself at him and began to beat against his chest with her fists while the dog nipped at his ankles. The man turned to shield himself from his attackers and noticed me and Ram hurrying toward them. A look of horror crossed his face and then he took off running down the beach. We ran after him.

I had run on the track team when I was in high school, so I was pretty fast and outpaced Ram in no time. My military training, as well as the conditioning drills I still did to this day, kept me in excellent shape; but this guy was fast, too. He was almost to the beach blanket, where the other woman was now standing with her hands on her hips and her mouth wide open in disbelief at the scene unfolding before her. In a flash I recognized the woman and instinctively called out for help.

"Babe, tackle him!"

And, as usual, Stephanie didn't disappoint. She caught the man off-guard with a direct hit to his middle and they both crashed to the ground. As they rolled around, I saw her knee come up to connect with his gonads in her signature move and the man stopped moving. It wasn't pretty and I'm glad we were on sand, because I knew that Steph would have lots of bruises, too. Nevertheless, I wouldn't want to be the bearded man. I may be a Soldier of Fortune, but my Babe _**clearly**_ has all the luck.

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A/N: Who is the bearded man? Who is the angry young woman? What will Ranger and Stephanie do now? What's to become of the little brown dog? And ... what about Naomi? (I've always wanted to write that in somehow!) Anyway, 'tune in' next time and these questions - and more - will be answered. Until then, I'd love to know what you're thinking. Thanks! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: So sorry about the cliffhanger, but I just couldn't resist it! ;P Also, congratulations and many thanks to 'barb4psu' for giving this tale its one hundredth review! In fact, she has reviewed every chapter so far! Thanks so much, Barb! I feel extremely honored that many others of you really like my story and are nice enough to post reviews. Now, let's get back to Stephanie's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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"You know I could have lots of good jobs," I said. "I don't need to be doing this."

_Ranger had his arms around me, encouraging me to walk up the stairs. "This isn't just a job. This is a service profession. We uphold the law, babe."_

_"Is that why you do this? Because you believe in the law?"_

_"No. I do this for the money. And because hunting people is what I do best."_

_Four to Score_

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Chapter 7: Beach Buddy

I love the beach. I love the smell of the salty air and feel of the ocean breeze against my skin. I love the sounds of the waves as they whoosh up onto the sand and the plaintive cries of the seagulls as they circle above the whole thing. If I could live anywhere in the world, I'd live at the beach. I don't think I'd always choose to stay on the Jersey Shore - it's too cold here in the winter - but I definitely want to be someplace with sand and sun and crystal blue water. Aaah, what a nice dream!

One of my very few regrets about divorcing Dickie Orr was that he had promised to buy me a vacation home on the shore someday. Lots of lawyers have second and third homes, he'd said. Before we even exchanged our vows, I had already mentally spent Dickie's future money on the beach house of my dreams. As a big-shot lawyer's wife, I figured that I would live half the year in a nice, gated community across the river in Bucks County and the other half of the year I'd stay in my well-appointed beach house down south where the water stayed warm all year long.

It was too bad that Dickie the Jerk had to ruin everything; I'd _**never**_ be able to afford my desired lifestyle on my current salary. As it was, I could barely cover my rent and I couldn't even afford to buy a decent car. Nope, the best I could hope for was to rent a modest beach bungalow for a few days or maybe a whole week - that is, _**if **_I got lucky and caught a bunch of high-dollar skips. Winning the lottery or hitting the big jackpot at Atlantic City would solve my cash-flow problems, too.

For now, I'm content to sit here on my well-used beach blanket and stare out at the frothy waves. I do some of my best thinking while the sun is scorching my neck and nose. There were no worries about sun exposure today, though. It was cloudy and gray; the wind tugged at my ponytail and dried the tears that fell freely from my eyes. On a day like this, the beach was an open, almost private place, and I let my emotions and tears run loose like never before.

After all these years, I'd finally lost the 'safety net' that Joe had become for me. I could admit that now; I'd thought that if all else failed, Morelli and his house and his dog would always be there, waiting for my eventual return. Except ... now it was over. I truly was like a trapeze artist reaching for the bar - only now there was nothing between me and the ground to break my fall if I missed my mark. I had come here to face up to the fact that it really was over between me and Morelli, so I cried for him and I cried for myself.

My solitary 'cry-fest' was going rather well until a furry, brown poodle wriggled under my arms and began licking the tears off my face. His little pink tongue tickled my salty cheeks and I couldn't stop the giggles that burst forth. I looked up and over my shoulders and saw a young woman running toward me. I assumed she was the dog's owner, so I smiled at her.

"Brownie! Stop that! Bad dog! _**Bad**_ dog!" She scolded. "I'm sorry, miss. I was distracted and he got away from me and--" Her voiced hitched in her throat and I could tell that I wasn't the only one who was upset today. Clearly, this woman had been crying, too.

"It's alright," I tried to reassure her. "I'm sure he meant no harm. In fact, I think he was just trying to cheer me up - and, you know, I think his methods are working."

The young woman picked up the dog and he licked at her tear-stained cheeks, too. It was plain to see that the little poodle loved his mistress. The wind whipped her shoulder-length blond hair into a halo around her reddened face as well as his eyes, but Brownie didn't seem to mind it at all. There was something vaguely familiar about the woman, but I couldn't quite place her face.

"My name's Stephanie Plum." I stretched out my hand to the woman. "You're welcome to join me; I have plenty of happy food here - Butterscotch Krimpets, Ho-Hos, candy bars, the works. My boyfriend just broke up with me last night, so I needed some major-league cheering up. If you don't mind my saying so, it looks like _**you**_ could use some cheering up, too."

The girl shook my hand and said in a wavering voice, "I'm Jenna Cafferty. Pleased to meet you." But her eyes were focused on my happy food and I knew I'd just made an instant 'beach buddy' of her.

Then it hit me. She'd said her name was Cafferty, hadn't she? Now I recognized her face! This was the girl whose engagement announcement I'd discovered the other day - John Cantrell's daughter. Unfortunately for Jenna, her father had swindled a whole bunch of people out of their life's savings, murdered his business partner and then disappeared for the past twenty years. I knew that her mother had remarried and that her stepfather had adopted her, but I wondered if the poor girl knew anything about her biological father's crimes. When she plunked down next to me, I shook my head slightly to clear it, hoping that she hadn't noticed.

"Cafferty? As in 'Briggs and Cafferty Designer Jewelry' here in town?" I asked, trying to sound calm.

"The same." She nodded and smiled weakly. "Only ... now it's just going to be 'Cafferty's Designs' since Grammy died. And it might not even be _**that**_ for much longer." Tears filled her eyes and I patted the top of her hand.

"I'm sorry about your loss. This must be difficult time for you and your family."

"You don't know the half of it," she replied in a forlorn tone of voice. "I'm sorry to hear about your break-up, too. Men are the biggest jerks!"

"Hey, that's why God invented chocolate," I quipped and held out a Ho-Ho. "But not _**all**_ men are jerks - at least, not all of the time. Besides, there might be this other guy ..."

"Oh my God!" Jenna interrupted me, snatching up the Ho-Ho. "I haven't had one of these in _**forever**_. My sister is a dancer, so we never have junk food in the house. And I'm not allowed to eat this kind of stuff, anyway, because I have to fit into my wedding gown on Saturday. Do you ... do you think it would be okay if I have just one?"

Her watery gray eyes pleaded with me and I nodded my consent. Jenna tore into the package and took a deep breath, filling her nostrils with the sweet, chocolaty aroma and then she closed her eyes when she bit into the Ho-Ho. It was good to watch someone else eat a snack cake with as much reverence as I normally do.

When Jenna introduced herself and mentioned the fact that she was getting married soon, it confirmed for me that this young woman was the very same person about whom I'd left notes for Ranger the previous day. I thought there was a high probability that her father would sneak into town to witness her wedding. Remembering my earlier conversation with Lester, I hoped that Cantrell was the high-dollar bounty he said that Ranger had gone after.

Now that Jenna was sharing my blanket and my happy food, perhaps she'd let something slip. Then I'd have to figure out how to relay the information to Ranger ASAP. I just hoped the Man of Mystery would be near enough to help me if I actually found Cantrell. As I watched my beach buddy scarf down two more Ho-Hos in quick succession, I became very glad that I hadn't introduced myself as a bounty hunter.

"I remember when my sister was getting married," I finally said. "When she couldn't fit into her dress anymore, she actually ran away to Disney World with the man who eventually became her husband. Later on, we were able to have a Justice of the Peace come out to my parents' house and marry them and they're very happy now." I know I left out some fairly major details, but Jenna didn't need to know about Valerie's earlier divorce or Albert Kloughn's aversion to wedding ceremonies or any of that nonsense.

"If only Eric - my fiancé - and I could have done that," she said wistfully. "I would've loved to have had my wedding at the Disney Castle. What girl wouldn't?"

I didn't answer that question. There was a time when a fairytale wedding with the puffy white dress and thousands of pink roses appealed to me - in fact, I'd _**had **_one of those with Dickie. However, I no longer believe in _**that**_ particular fantasy. I'm happy for women like Valerie and my happily-married best friend, Mary Lou, but marriage is actually quite overrated, in my humble opinion.

"Are you stuck with a wedding you don't like because your parents are paying for your wedding?" I asked, still trying to figure out how to get Jenna to reveal any information that would be useful to me.

"I _**wish**_ it was that simple!" She said through clenched teeth. "This wedding is turning into a disaster before it even begins. Have you ever been married?"

"Uh, yes, I've been married," I admitted and then I quickly added, "But, believe me, I'm no expert. It was my _**marriage**_ that turned into a disaster right away. In fact, I've been divorced for a much longer time than I was married." I didn't tell her that my actual wedding seems to have happened a long time ago to someone completely different.

"Eric and I should have followed our instincts and just eloped. But no, our parents all wanted to be able to invite friends and relatives from all over the land and so we succumbed to the madness. The rehearsal dinner is in two days and then the wedding is scheduled for the next day. The dresses are ready, the favors are ready, and I'm beyond ready. Actually, everything was going fine until ... until today," Jenna's voice wavered some more, "Then my ... my parents decided to ... to _**ruin **_my life. As of today, my life has become a living hell!" And she began to sob loudly.

I placed my arm around her shoulder and tugged her close to me. "There, there, Jenna," I crooned softly into her ear. "Weddings can be very stressful. Things probably seem worse than they really are."

"No, you don't understand," she shook her head and hiccupped. "My parents have gone crazy and there's nothing I can do about it. I just found out that my biological father wants to reconnect with me. He's never written to me or called or anything, but _**now**_ he wants to come to my wedding. I don't even use his last name anymore. My mother married Dan Cafferty when I was three years old and he adopted me and gave me his name. _**Dan**_ is my true Daddy - not this guy who contributed a sperm and then walked away."

"Well, they say it's never too late to make amends. Perhaps your biological father is looking for forgiveness."

"Hah!" Jenna scoffed. "Did I mention that this man is a _**criminal**_? He should've crawled under a rock and stayed there. I don't want _**anything**_ to do with him! He did a lot of bad things and then he abandoned my mom and me. Grammy had to take care of us until Mom met Dan."

So, Jenna _**did**_ know. Or at least she knew part of the story. I probed a little deeper, trying not to seem too nosy, "Did he - your real father - just get out of prison or something?"

Shaking her head, "No, to make matters worse, it turns out that this _**father**_ of mine has been on the run from the law all of my life. But lately, he's been renting a room in the house next door to us. He's been in living here _**in disguise**_ for the past two weeks. Mom has been ... I caught her _**making out **_with him in our workroom today and we all got into a huge shouting match. She said she ... she thinks she's still in love with the rat after all this time, but she loves my stepdad, too! It's so messed up! What's _**wrong**_ with my mother that _**one**_ man isn't good enough for her?"

Ouch! I know I winced. That comment sure hit me where it hurt. I've been like Jenna's mother - lusting after two men at the same time - for longer than I care to admit. It was quite sobering to hear the agony and disgust in Jenna's voice over her mother's weakness.

"My stepdad and half-sister will be devastated when they find out what's happened," she continued. "They went to up New York earlier this week so that my sister could take an advanced dance class in preparation for her audition to get into Julliard. They'll be back tomorrow and I don't know how I'll break it to them. I wish my father would just ... go away. I _**could**_ call the police, but then my mother would never forgive me. Like I said, my life is going down in flaming ruins!"

"Do you think you could convince your father to ... um, turn himself in?"

"After twenty years on the run? I don't think so. When he told me how much he had missed me over the years, he confessed that he came to town not only to be here for my wedding, but also to persuade my mother to go back to Switzerland with him. Can you imagine the nerve of him? _**Switzerland!**_ Turns out that's where he's been hiding all this time - with a fake name and everything. If my mother leaves the country under such shady circumstances, we might never be able to see her again. Anyway, I couldn't stand to be in the shop with the two of them for another minute and Brownie needed a walk, so I came down here to think."

"I ... I'm so sorry to hear about your troubles," I said quietly. "They make my break-up seem like a small nuisance in comparison. Does your fiancé know about any of this?"

She shook her head vigorously, "No. I was calling Eric to come and pick me up as soon as I got here, but Brownie got away from me and ran out here to you. Eric was scolding me because I had interrupted his lesson, so he probably thinks I hung up on him. I honestly think the only reason I didn't immediately fling myself into the ocean when I reached the beach is that you offered me your Ho-Hos. I mean, how could I resist such temptation?" Then she laughed feebly at her own joke.

"What can I say? Happy food is happy food." I shrugged and smiled at her. "What do you think you'll tell your fiancé when he gets here?" Then I sat back, realizing that Jenna was quite the talker.

"I haven't decided that yet. Eric is a good man, but I'm not sure how much more drama our relationship can withstand at this point. He's a private pilot and skydiving instructor, but he doesn't make a lot of money. He never wanted a big wedding in the first place. In fact, Eric was ready to stand his ground against all of our parents, but _**I**_ caved in to the pressure. Ever since then, we've been having lots of little fights about everything. Now it's really, really bad. I've been afraid that Eric thinks I have no backbone when it comes to my mother's wishes and, well, I guess he's right. But I don't know how I'm going to tell him that my mother has lost her mind. The thing is, I know she loves my stepdad. I _**know**_ it. But Mom was just kissing my ... my father the same way she kisses Dan. It's just crazy!"

"Love can do that to a person." Or, perhaps it's just lust. But who was I to judge?

"We should've gone with our original plan." Jenna moaned. "Eric and I wanted our wedding to take place high above the ground during a freefall or on the drop zone after a jump - we're both skydivers, you see. Lots of people have gotten married like that before, but our parents begged us to wait and let them pay for this stuffy, traditional wedding, instead. Once Eric's family finds out that my family is crumbling under my feet, I'm afraid there won't be a wedding at all."

"Perhaps you should give your fiancé a bit more credit," I countered slowly. "Maybe Eric will be there to catch you when your family can't do it for you anymore."

"You think so?"

"I don't know your Eric, so I can't say for sure. But if you two are brave enough to jump out of airplanes together, you're probably better-equipped to deal with today's crisis than you think you are. Tell me about the skydiving." I was desperate to distract Jenna so that I could send Ranger a text message without her noticing it, plus I thought it would do her good to talk about something more pleasant.

This, apparently, was the right thing to do, because Jenna really opened up about how she and her fiancé actually met on a tandem jump after some of her friends dared her to do go either skydiving or bungee jumping. She chose the skydiving and fell in love with the sensation of flying downward through the air. Jenna also fell in love with her very cute instructor - she showed me a small photo of Eric that was inside the golden locket around her neck. They had been dating for two years and he proposed to her in the air by unfurling a banner during one of their jumps which said, "Will you marry me, Jenna?" She had just begun to tell me about their wild engagement party when Brownie jumped up and ran away from us, growling and barking furiously.

Jenna took one look at the medium-sized, bearded man her dog was running toward and she went rigid with fury. "How _**dare**_ he follow me down here? I don't care if he _**is**_ my biological father, I'm gonna make him wish he had just left us alone. I'll show him!" Then she sprang up from the blanket and ran after her dog, yelling what sounded like a battle cry, "Aaagh!"

I decided that I'd better try to get a call through to Ranger as soon as Jenna was out of earshot, but I fumbled my cell phone and it fell into the sand when I witnessed what happened next. Both Jenna and Brownie attacked the man who had been approaching us. And beyond that little scene, I saw two very familiar men running toward the action. Unless my eyes were playing tricks on me - and I knew that they weren't - Ranger and Ram were chasing the man, too. So much for my progress report!

When the man, whom I now knew to be John Cantrell, looked over his shoulder and saw the two men barreling down the beach toward him, he pushed Jenna to the ground, kicked away her dog and started running in my direction. By then, I was standing on my blanket and I could tell that Ranger was gaining ground quickly. I know it sounds like a cliché, but the Man of Mystery truly was poetry in motion. Suddenly, though, his voice broke through my near-trance.

"Babe, tackle him!"

Startled, I sprang into action, following my instincts. I know it wasn't pretty, but I caught Cantrell off-guard with a direct hit to his middle and we both crashed to the ground. As we rolled around, his elbow connected with my eye and I saw stars for a moment, but I refused to let go of his shirt. Finally, I was able to send my knee into his crotch and Cantrell curled up into a fetal position, barely able to breathe. Then I rolled over on the sand and lay there, trying to catch my own breath.

I heard footsteps quickly approaching my location and soon, a very familiar set of black-clad legs straddled my outstretched body.

"Nice tackle, Babe!" He said, giving me all 200 watts of his gorgeous smile. "Are you alright?"

Still breathless, I only nodded and Ranger extended his hand to me, lifting me to my feet as though I weighed nothing. Once I was upright, I bent over and supported myself by placing my hands on my thighs and continued sucking in air. I was coated with sand, but I lacked the will to dust it off of my bruised body. As I watched Ram handcuffing the sand-covered John Cantrell, I suddenly wondered what Jenna must think of all this. I didn't have to wait long for the answer.

"What's going on here?" Jenna yelled. "Stephanie? Do you know these men? Who _**are**_ you people?"

"I'm sorry, Jenna," I began, "I know this looks bad, but--"

"But what?" she interrupted angrily. "Is your name _**really**_ Stephanie, or was this whole thing just a set-up to get to my ... my father? Were you just trying to delay me here until he came after me?"

"Jenna, please ... I'm not sure I even understand what just happened here. If you'll calm down, I'm sure we can explai--"

Jenna shook her head and started to back away. "I trusted you! I bet you don't even _**have**_ a boyfriend who broke up with you. That was probably just some lame story to get me to open up to you. I bet this all was just another big lie in the string of lies my life has become! I hate you! I hate my father most of all, but I hate you, too! My life is crap!" Then she turned and ran toward the water.

"Stop her!" I yelled at Ranger, knowing that I was in no condition to chase after Jenna. "She's going to try to drown herself!"

Ranger went after Jenna without hesitation. He caught up with her before the water was as high as her chest and he scooped her out of the waves easily. After he slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Ranger carried her back onto the beach. All the while, she was kicking and screaming at him to let her go and Brownie was running around Ranger's legs, barking like crazy.

A tall young man seemingly came out of nowhere, ran up to Ranger and attempted to punch him in the face. Blocking with his free hand, Ranger easily deflected the intended blow and then swept the guy's feet out from under him with a quick flick of his leg. Then he set Jenna down and warned her not to move.

"Eric!" She screamed when she saw the young man sprawled on the sand in front of her. Thankfully, Ranger didn't try to prevent Jenna from kneeling down next to her fiancé.

"Both of you, stay put!" Ranger growled at the young couple as they hugged and kissed, examining each other for injuries. Obviously, they had no intentions of going anywhere for the moment.

Ram had lifted Cantrell to a standing position, but the man's movements were limited due to his hands being cuffed behind his back. Well, that and the results of my well-placed knee to his groin. Cantrell tried to say something to me, but he was still in too much pain to speak clearly. If looks could kill, though ... Ram started walking our captive down the beach in the direction from which they had come and Jenna jumped up onto her feet.

"Where are you taking him?" She demanded to know. "What right do you have to take this man anywhere?"

I looked at Ranger and he raised his eyebrow at me, barely tilting his head in Jenna's direction. That was my cue. Taking a step toward the confused and distraught young woman, I began to explain the situation, "Jenna, I'm very sorry about all of this. Please believe me. My name really is Stephanie Plum and I'm a bond enforcement agent - bounty hunter, if you prefer. All of us are. These men are my associates, Carlos Manoso and Ram--" I turned to Ranger and said, "What _**is**_ Ram's real name, anyway?"

"Babe." He replied and shook his head. I guess Ram was like Tank and didn't want to be known by the name his parents had given him.

"Anyway, this whole thing is just a ... a coincidence," I continued, feeling very self-conscious because I knew that Ranger also would hear what I was about to say next. "I've only ever spoken the truth to you, Jenna. I really did come to the beach today to do some heavy thinking. My ... my boyfriend really did break up with me last night and I feel as though my whole life is at a crossroads right now. You and your dog just happened to come along. I don't exactly know how Ranger and Ram caught up with your father, but I can assure you that many people have been searching for him for many years."

"But ... but _**you**_ tackled my father!" Jenna wailed. "You're the one who hurt him!"

"I said I'm sorry about that, Jenna, and I truly am. But _**he**_ was doing some damage to me, too. I had to stop him before he hit me again and escaped."

Jenna stared at me as though she was seeing me clearly for the first time and then she winced. Taking down skips always left me either banged up pretty bad or covered in garbage and filth. Seeing the expression on her face, I knew I looked like crap. Luckily for me, Ranger had seen me looking much worse.

"Your father?" Eric asked, sounding confused. "Jenna, what's going on? Is that man really your father?" He had come to stand behind her now.

"Yes, honey; unfortunately, he is," Jenna admitted. "It's a long story, but I already told you about the part where Dan Cafferty adopted me after he married my mom. Remember when we went to get our marriage license and you saw my original name on my birth certificate? Well, that man in the handcuffs is John Cantrell - my biological father." She turned and asked Ranger, "Can't you tell me where you're taking him? I think I have a right to know that much, at least."

"Up to Newark," Ranger replied. "We've already contacted the federal agents there, so they know to expect us."

"Oh, God!" Jenna wailed. "What have I done? What will I say to my mother?" She covered her face and moaned. "This is all my fault!"

"No, Jenna, it's not!" I countered vehemently. "John Cantrell is a dangerous criminal, a wanted man. Remember? The FBI has been looking for this man for almost two decades. This is in no way _**your **_fault, Jenna. _**He**_ made his own decisions and now _**he**_ must live with the consequences. It's just an awful shame that he tried to drag you, your mother, and your whole family down into his muck. Don't even _**think**_ about blaming yourself for John Cantrell's faults!"

Ranger looked over at Eric and asked, "Are you her boyfriend?"

"Fiancé," Eric replied. "We're getting married this Saturday. Sorry I took a swing at you, but you have to admit it didn't look good when you were carrying Jenna out of the water like that."

"No harm, no foul," Ranger said. "It's getting colder out here. You need to take your fiancée home and get her into some dry clothes before she gets sick. Stephanie and I will accompany you back to her mother's place to explain what happened."

"We will?" I said, completely taken by surprise. "I mean, of course we will."

Eric nodded. He already had taken off his windbreaker and was wrapping it around Jenna's wet and shivering frame. Jenna was hugging Brownie close to her chest and crying softly. I felt so sorry for her. Things appeared to be very bad for my beach buddy now, but somehow I knew everything would work out for the best.

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**A/N: I know it seems like I've gotten away from the initial storyline, but never fear, it'll reemerge as the central theme soon enough. And now that I've introduced some more characters and plot points, I hope you like them; if so, you'll see them again. Please let me know. Thanks! :D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: Happy New Year to you all! My family and I didn't feel like going out this year, so I spent a little time writing while we waited for 2010 to arrive. I'm glad you liked the new characters, but I really wanted to get back inside the Man of Mystery's head. I'll bring back Jenna and Eric and others later. This chapter is in Ranger's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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At the best of times my patience was lacking, and this wasn't nearly the best of times. "Let me make my position clear to you," I said, leaning forward. "I'm out of work. I've had my car repossessed, my refrigerator is empty, I'm going to get kicked out of my apartment, and my feet don't fit in these shoes. I haven't got a lot of energy to waste socializing. Are you going to help me or what?"

_Mañoso grinned. "This is gonna be fun. This here's gonna be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Trenton."_

_"What do I call you?" I asked him._

_"My street name. Ranger." _

_One for the Money_

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Chapter 8: Wealthy Woman

Thankfully, the drive from the beach to Susanna Cafferty's jewelry store was uneventful. Ram sat in the back seat with the shackled and sullen John Cantrell. The long-time skip wisely refused to say a word until he got a lawyer. That was fine by me; my mission with FTAs was to bring them in, not to take their confessions or listen to them whine.

Stephanie sat up front in the passenger seat. I'd told her not to worry about the sand that she had tracked into the SUV with her. I also told her not to worry about her family's Buick, Big Blue. Tank was already on his way to Point Pleasant and would take care of driving the indestructible car back to her parents' house. He was bringing my Cayenne and, like it or not, Steph would be traveling with me for the rest of the day because I wasn't going to let her out of my sight.

There was no way to deny it any longer; my Babe had a special talent for being in the right place at the right time. She also had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the wrong place at the right time and the right place at the wrong time. Whatever the situation, she would figure things out in that uncanny, unpredictable way of hers and she was able to solve all kinds of cases that well-trained, highly-skilled professionals - like me - couldn't crack.

As much as I knew she'd try to wriggle out of it, I wanted Stephanie to be the one who delivered Cantrell to the FBI facility in Newark. She needed to become familiar with the process of handing over a federal skip, especially since I had just decided that I'd be asking her to work on more of these kinds of cases with me. If we combined my kind of hunting skills with her type of people-finding skills, we would become nearly unstoppable. Long-lost criminals had better beware, because RangeMan was about to take high-stakes bounty hunting to a whole new level.

Additionally, even though she didn't realize it yet, Stephanie Plum was about to become a wealthy woman. The bounty on Cantrell was 1.2 million dollars. The company, RangeMan, always gets sixty percent of the reward money to cover the overhead costs, but whoever physically captures the skip, gets to keep a large share of the dough for their personal use. And, believe me, my Babe definitely earned the big bucks today.

You see, whenever any of my RangeMan employees play a key role in capturing a high-dollar skip, they receive a bigger cut of the reward money. That's one of the reasons my guys hate desk duty - there's a much higher probability of earning more money doing fieldwork. Although Ram would get a nice chunk of change for today's mission, I knew that a lot of Stephanie's financial woes were about to get solved. I only hoped she would accept the fund transfer gracefully and not think that I was trying to give her the money out of pity.

Susanna Cafferty wasn't a happy woman - her newly-found, long-lost love was going away for an even longer time now. We did our best to explain what had happened out on the beach that afternoon, but she only wanted to be with her ex-husband. Luckily, John Cantrell proved himself to be a complete ass and wouldn't answer any of her questions - not even when she asked him if he truly loved her. It was one of the most pathetic scenes I've ever witnessed, - but at least the woman was less of a basket case by the time we walked out of her shop.

The Cafferty family lived in a large apartment over the jewelry shop, so the daughter, Jenna, went upstairs to take a hot shower and then came back down after she had put on dry clothes. She tried to comfort her mother as best as she could, but we all knew that it would take some time for their emotional wounds to heal. The fiancé, Eric, assured us that he would watch over Jenna and Susanna for the rest of the night.

Everyone exchanged business cards and phone numbers and Stephanie promised to call the Cafferty women in the morning. When I looked more closely at Eric's business card, I smiled inwardly. The owner of the skydiving school where the young man worked just happened to be an old and dear friend of mine and an interesting idea popped into my head. I'd definitely be in touch with Eric - soon.

When we were getting ready to leave the shop, Tank, Ramon and Hal pulled up behind my SUV. Ramon was driving the Cayenne and Tank was behind the wheel of the powder blue '53 Buick, looking very happy. Obviously, Hal had drawn the short straw, because he was sulking as he rode shotgun in the Buick. I know my Babe hates having to drive the blue behemoth, but it's a true classic and all my men love it. That car has cajones - big ones!

I escorted Stephanie to the Cayenne and Ramon handed me a large, thick manila envelope. I caught him grinning at my Babe, so I shot him a warning glance and he scurried back to exchange places with Hal in the Buick. Ram got behind the wheel of the SUV and Hal crammed himself into the passenger seat. Cantrell remained shackled in the back seat of that vehicle, glaring at everyone who made eye contact with him. Tank got out of the Buick and walked over to the rear of the SUV, where I was grabbing my extra gear out of the back compartment.

"Sorry about the phone call," Tank said apologetically. "My brain was so fried this morning, I just forgot. Lester said he squared you away, though."

"He told me about Steph's location." I was glad Tank couldn't see my face, because I was trying not to smile. It took me less than a heartbeat to make my face blank again.

"So ... are _**we**_ cool?" Tank asked me.

I was a tiny bit shaken that my best friend even thought he needed to ask such a thing. I had always trusted Tank with my life and I would continue to do so unless he truly betrayed me. One forgotten phone call was not a betrayal. Leave it to a woman to pull everything out of whack between us.

Turning slightly, I silently stared at my big friend for a moment, just to mess with him a little. Then I smiled, closed the SUV's back hatch and nodded, "Hooah." (_No worries, my friend. It's all good._)

Tank smiled in return and said in a low voice, "I noticed that Ramon gave you the packet I put together, as you requested. And Ella put your bags in the back of the Cayenne. You're going offline and taking the Bombshell with you after you all complete your mission in Newark, aren't you?"

"Hooah. (_Yeah._) You know where I'll be." We had our backs turned to the Cayenne so that Stephanie couldn't hear us.

"Take good care of her, boss man. Don't mess this up!"

"It's only a short trip, Tank. Besides, I have to be back in time for Doc O'Neill's visit."

"You gonna tell her about all that now?"

"Probably. Maybe. We'll see." Then I turned and walked around to the driver's side of the Cayenne, opened the door and said, "Gotta go."

"Hooah." (_See you when you get back._)

Stephanie gave me a sideways glance as I slid in behind the steering wheel and buckled my seatbelt. She didn't say anything until we reached the highway, but I knew she was itching to ask me a ton of questions. I waited for the barrage to begin and, of course, my Babe didn't disappoint me.

"So, we're taking Cantrell to the FBI headquarters in Newark. I understand that. What then? Is it like when we turn in skips at the Trenton Police Station? How does this work? Will I have to make a statement?"

I smiled at her many questions and then explained it all to her in detail, but I could tell that she still wasn't happy. Steph crossed her arms over her chest and glared through the windshield at the SUV in front of us. I knew she was thinking hard because I could almost smell something burning. Her voice was tight when she finally spoke up.

"I'm not going inside," she declared. "When we get there, you and the guys can deliver Cantrell by yourselves."

"Babe."

"Look at me, Ranger - I'm a mess! My jeans are ripped and my shirt is torn. I still have so much sand in my hair I can't stand it." She flipped down the visor, opened the mirror and winced at her reflection. "Oh God! Look at my eye! I've never seen such an ugly shade of greenish-purple and it's all puffy. I can't go anywhere looking like this!"

"There's a cold pack in the first aid kit under your seat. Get it out and put it on your eye," I said, as I closed the mirror and flipped the visor back up. "Babe, the cops in Trenton have seen you looking worse."

"The cops in Trenton are my _**friends**_ and they're used to seeing me like this!" She reached down and grabbed the first aid kit. It took her a moment to read the instructions on the cold pack's wrapper, but she finally figured it out and leaned back in her seat with the pack covering her swollen eye. "Besides," she continued, "I don't care what they think, anyway. But these are _**federal agents**_, Ranger, and I don't want to have a whole new crop of people laughing at me."

"Stephanie, no one will laugh at you. They might laugh at _**me**_, but certainly not at you."

"What do you mean? I can't imagine any sane person laughing at _**you**_, Mr. Badass Bounty Hunter."

"Babe, I may be the badass here, but _**you're**_ the one who made the tackle today. If anyone gets laughed at, it'll be me. No one's gonna believe that you did what you did unless you go in and show yourself. Trust me, Cantrell won't want to admit that he got tagged by a girl. Besides, your current appearance lends credibility to the fact that you physically captured Cantrell - a man who's been eluding the feds for a very long time. You _**should**_ be there in person to take credit, Steph. You can let Ram tell the story if you like, but you're going inside with us. End of discussion."

She continued to sit there with her arms crossed, giving me the silent treatment. I knew she knew that I was right, but I also knew that she hated being told what she should or shouldn't do. Since I had many other plans for the days ahead, I decided to pull out one of my strongest 'secret' weapons to use on my stubborn Stephanie. I had a feeling I would be using it a lot in the next twenty-four hours.

"_**Please**_, Babe," I put a hint of begging into my tone of voice. "I promise; you won't regret going in with us."

Sighing, she merely closed her eyes and nodded. Then she reached down again and pulled her monstrous purse onto her lap. Rummaging through it, she pulled out a dizzying array of crap - a hairbrush, pepper spray, a pack of chewing gum, handcuffs, sunglasses and so on. It was amazing what she kept in there. My senses went on full alert, though, when she pulled out her cell phone and began to dial.

"Who are you calling?"

"My mother. I need to tell her not to hold dinner for me."

"Babe, I think she'll figure that out when Tank arrives at your parents' house with the Buick."

"She'll feel better if she hears it from me. Besides, I have to find out if she-- Hello? Mom?"

I sat back and listened to Steph's end of the conversation. I knew it wasn't going very well by the difficulty she had in responding to any of the rapid-fire questions her mother was asking. Forcing myself to stay calm, I gripped the steering wheel tightly to keep from snatching the phone out of my Babe's hands and tossing it out the window.

"No, Mom ... Yes, Mom, it's true ... I'm fine ... I didn't tell you last night because you were asleep when I got in ... Yes, but ... Remember? You didn't want me to be late for work this morning ... No, Mom, Morelli's a big boy; I'm sure he'll be alright ... I'm with Ranger; we gotta take a skip up to Newark ... I _**said**_ I'm fine ... No, I just--"

I couldn't take it anymore, so I reached over and snapped the phone shut. Stephanie glared at me, but only for a moment. Then she snatched the phone out of my fingers, pressed a few of its buttons, and flung the device back into her purse.

"Well, it's official," she finally said grimly. "The whole Burg knows that Morelli and I broke up for good this time. Grandma Mazur heard it from Doris Bieberman who heard it from Angie Morelli, Joe's mom. Damn! I thought I'd at least have a day or two of peace, but I guess it's just not meant to be."

"You know you're welcome to stay with me."

"Hmm ... tempting. Didn't you say you have a safe house in North Trenton? Maybe I could stay there until this blows over - I mean, if that's okay with you. I just don't think I can face my mother or Joe's Grandma Bella and her accursed 'eye' any time soon."

"Were you going to tell _**me **_about this any time soon?"

"Tell _**you**_? What do you mean? I thought you heard me when I was talking to Jenna after she accused me of lying to her. I thought--"

"Whatever you thought, Babe, I'd like to hear the whole story from start to finish. But only when you're ready to tell me." I was already working very hard to keep my emotions under control, so it wouldn't have hurt my feelings if she hadn't wanted to talk about it. Besides, the only thing I wanted to do at that moment was to pull her over to me and kiss her senseless. That, however, would have to wait until we arrived at someplace far more private - and safe.

"There's not much to tell," she sighed. "You already know most of it anyway. Joe and I were sort-of taking a break and he knew I was staying at RangeMan. He wasn't happy about it, but it really wasn't any of his business now, was it? Then you and I decided it would be best if I kept the job, but gave up sleeping in your bed - especially since we'd be sleeping in it at the same time now that you won't be pulling those double shifts anymore. So, I was headed back to my parents' house until my apartment is fixed after, you know, the latest firebomb destroyed it."

"But you went straight to Morelli's house last night after we caught those damn kids who were ripping me off."

"Yeah, how stupid of me; I forgot about the GPS tracker in my purse. Lester told me that my route home wasn't very popular in the control room. Of course, that didn't stop them from having their party."

"Very little gets in the way of a party. **_I_** couldn't even stop that party from happening."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. I'm sure the guys had a much better time without me, anyway."

"Hunh! Well, I suppose **_the guys_** all know we're in the same car now, don't they? Gotta love that GPS!" Her tone was completely sarcastic now.

"Were you trying to get back together with Morelli?" I just had to ask. What can I say? I'm a masochist at heart.

"I don't know _**what**_ I was doing beyond trying to see the hockey game. I knew my dad would be watching something else and I really only went over to Morelli's place to watch the Rangers playing against the Devils. Then I fell asleep during the game. How rude is that? Joe woke me up around midnight and one thing led to another and soon we were arguing again and then Joe ... he ... he finally stopped."

Then Steph's voice hitched in her throat. I glanced over at her and saw her quickly swiping at her eyes. After she shook her head, she tried to continue but couldn't seem to make the words come out of her mouth. I felt like a total jerk for going down this path. It was too soon for her to tell me about her break-up with Morelli and I knew it.

"Babe, it's okay. I don't have to hear the whole story right now."

Her voice sounded tired and defeated when she spoke again. "Joe asked me to give it all up - my job with Vinnie, my job with you - everything. He ... he _**begged**_ me to give up my life and marry him, have a bunch of kids, settle down in the Burg. He had asked me before, of course, but this time was different. Joe said this was the last time he was going to ask me to marry him. And then ... and then ... he said he was done."

"You turned him down?"

"How could I not turn him down?" My Babe was starting to sound really depressed, but I let her continue. I _**had**_ to know what was going on inside her head.

"Look, I've already been married once," she said. "I _**tried**_ to do the Burg housewife thing and see where it got me? Failed marriage, failed career, failed daughterhood. The best I can hope for is that my mother will eventually give up and stop trying to marry me off to some leftover loser-son of one of her friends."

"You turned down Joe Morelli?" I repeated, almost more to myself than to her.

"Yes, that's what I said," Steph sounded agitated now. "I, Stephanie Plum, turned down Joseph Morelli. I've done it before, but I guess I'll never have to do it again. We're through. Finito, as he said. I'm a free woman now, dammit!"

"We'll see." The cynical words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"_**What**_?" Now she sounded angry. "What was that? Do you doubt my sincerity, Ranger? Because if you do, you can just let me out of this car right now and I'll make my own way back home."

"Calm down."

"Screw you!"

"I'm sorry."

"You're acting like a jerk!

"I_** said **_I'm sorry and I truly am. I don't doubt you, Steph. It's just that-- aw, _**hell**_ no!" And I slapped my hand down hard on the steering wheel, startling Stephanie. "Dios mio! We are _**not **_doing this here. We are _**not**_ having this discussion now. And yes, there _**is**_ a safe house in North Trenton. We can stay there tonight after we turn Cantrell over to the FBI. You won't have to face the Burg in the morning. Are you happy, now?"

Stephanie's eyes were wide with shock; she'd rarely ever seen me lose control like that. I knew I had to clamp down tight on my emotions again. After we completed our mission of turning Cantrell over to the FBI, I would deal with my frustration in a much better way. But until then, I needed to calm down ASAP and _**stay**_ calm.

I turned on the car stereo and let the gentle and soothing sounds of Vivaldi's Lute Concerto in G flow around and through me. At first, Steph's jaw muscles flexed and tightened and I knew she was dying to say something else. Wisely, neither of us said another word. After a while, I heard Steph's breathing become deep and even and she slept the rest of the way to Newark.

Things went pretty smoothly when we arrived at the FBI complex in Newark. Stephanie disappeared inside the ladies restroom for a while and emerged with freshly-applied mascara and her hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. She obviously had some useful items in her purse, because she smelled nice and didn't appear to be as beat-up as she had before she went in to "powder her nose."

In fact, I thought my Babe looked good enough to eat! It was all I could do to focus on the mission so that I could restrain myself from jumping her right there in the highly-monitored hallway. I was proud of her for facing up to the challenge of doing something new - and I told her so - as we walked down the corridor to the holding room where Ram and Hal were waiting for us with Cantrell.

"Thanks, Ranger. Sorry I almost flaked out on you, but I didn't want to look like a total nitwit in front of the feds here. First impressions are very important."

"Babe, you do realize that these guys put their pants on one leg at a time, right?"

"Yeah, but we've worked with the feds before and they always act like they're too good for their own pants. I wanted to look ... hot, you know?"

"What I know is that you look _**very**_ hot to my eyes and I have 20/20 vision. I don't want any of these yahoos to look too closely at you, Babe. Now, let's get rid of Cantrell and collect our reward."

"Reward?"

"Yes, Miss Doolittle. Remember, we're _**bond**_ enforcement agents. We collect on the bond. In this case, it's well over a million dollars."

"Professor Higgins!" Steph gasped, playing into our mentor-student roles with a fake British accent, "A million dollars! I completely forgot about that!"

"We _**never**_ forget about the money, dear Eliza," I responded seriously. "Never!"

Stephanie sobered up quickly as we went through the process of turning Cantrell over to the federal authorities. She asked for and received information on how the criminal's family could contact him while he was incarcerated, so that she could call the Caffertys as promised. After we gave our official statements, we went to the finance office and watched the clerk process our reward money and send it to the RangeMan corporate account. I thought my Babe would keel over as she counted all the zeros on the computer screen.

We ate a late supper in the small cafeteria of the building and then we all went back to our vehicles. It had been an extremely tiring day and it wasn't over yet. I gave Hal and Ram some instructions before we departed and they led the way out of Newark onto the highway. It took Steph a moment to realize that their SUV kept going south when we exited the highway and drove into a suburban housing development in North Trenton.

I could feel the tension building between us as I pulled into the driveway of a modest split-level house with a one-car garage. It had a red brick facade and pale yellow siding, with forest green shutters and a dark red front door. It also had the standard shrubbery around the front and it looked like every third or fourth house down or across the street from it. There was nothing to distinguish it from any of its neighbors and that's the way it was supposed to be.

"Welcome to the safe house." I said. "As I promised earlier, we're staying _**here**_ tonight."

"I can't believe you brought me straight here," I heard Steph grumble as I pulled into the garage and the automatic door closed behind us. "I don't have _**any**_ of my stuff. I have nothing to wear and my hair's going to be an absolute nightmare in the morning."

I opened my door, grinned at her and said, "O, ye of little faith, wait here." Then I opened the back hatch, pulled out our bags and held them up for her to see. "Tank and Ella took care of everything. You'll see."

I was extremely glad that I had asked Tank and the guys to meet us at Point Pleasant. Earlier that day, while Ram and I were sitting in the SUV and watching the jewelry shop, I had sent a series of text messages to a variety of people back at RangeMan, requesting that certain arrangements be made on my behalf. Since my Babe was going to be a wealthy woman very soon, I planned to show her how to live a little, without her having to worry so much about paying the bills.

As I had requested, my extraordinary housekeeper, Ella, had gone on a quick little shopping spree for me. There were two fully-loaded travel suitcases in the back of the Cayenne; one was mine and the other was stuffed with the brands of hair and beauty products Stephanie used, as well as a few day's worth of clothes in her size. Knowing Ella, there'd be a surprise or two in the bags for me as well. I could hardly wait!

I took Stephanie on a quick tour of the little house and I could tell that my Babe was slightly impressed. There was a well-stocked kitchen, a nice living room with a large screen TV, and a rather plain dining room on the main level. Below, there was a mostly empty basement den, a laundry room and a powder room. On the top level, one bedroom was outfitted for use as an office, complete with telephones, a computer system and a printer/copier/fax machine. Each of the other two bedrooms had its own bathroom, although there were bolts for use with shackles in one of the rooms. I threw my bags into that room.

When I placed the suitcase that Ella had packed for her into the other room and opened it, Stephanie peered inside and then she smiled up at me. I almost threw her onto the bed right then, but Tank's last words of advice to me echoed in my head. _"Don't mess this up!"_ I didn't intend to. My Babe needed to know that, regardless of the fact that she was definitely within _**my**_ realm, I was giving her all the space she wanted.

Although I knew Stephanie would appreciate that I hadn't just assumed she'd be sleeping with me, I decided she also needed to know that I'd be here for her, too. When she followed me down the short flight of steps into the living room, I turned and pulled her close to me. I had intended for the kiss to be short and sweet, almost playful. But my intense desire for her sprang to the surface and I deepened the kiss much faster than I had intended. I knew I'd better back off before I did something I would regret later.

"This is ... not what I expected," she said, as I ended the kiss. She uncurled her fingers from my shirt and smoothed down the fabric. "I'm not sure what I pictured whenever you said you had to have someone stay in one of your "safe houses," but it wasn't anything like _**this**_. It's like a regular home. I'm not sure I feel ... safe. I mean, here with you, alone. Especially after--"

"You're safe enough for tonight," I interrupted her and glanced over my shoulder at one of the tiny cameras in the corner near the edge of the ceiling. "This house is completely monitored by RangeMan."

"You mean ... there are cameras everywhere?" The color drained from Steph's face.

"And mics, so be careful what you say," I told her with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm going to take my shower now. This house has a huge water heater, so you can take a shower in your room at the same time, if that's what you'd like to do. Let me know now, because I'll have to scramble the feed before you get undressed. The guys back at RangeMan headquarters do _**not**_ need to monitor your time in the bathroom." I knew that back in the control room, grown men were crying because I was ruining their fun.

"Okay. I understand," she said, nodding thoughtfully. Then she turned around in a slow circle, doing that cute little finger wave of hers. "Hi guys! Guess what? Ranger says I'm going to be a wealthy woman after today, so I suppose the first round at Shorty's is on me when I get back. See you soon!"

I had to laugh. My Babe never disappoints.

**

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A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know I left you hanging again. It's really okay, though, because I hope the next chapter will make up for my evilness. No flames, please, but I'd love to know what you're thinking. Thanks! :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: I played with this chapter several times - first it was in Steph's POV, then I switched it to Ranger's POV, and then I split it and renamed it and turned the first part back over to Steph. Then I moved the other part and added it to the next chapter after this one, which will be Ranger's again - I think. I hope I haven't confused you, but for clarity's sake, this chapter is in Stephanie's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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"So," I said, "is this the Bat Cave?"

_"This is an apartment I keep in my office building. I have similar buildings and apartments in Boston, Atlanta, and Miami. It turns out security is big business these days. I supply a variety of services to a wide range of clients. Trenton was my first base of operation, and it's the place I spend most of my time. My family is still in Jersey."_

_"Why all the secrecy?"_

_"We're not secretive about the office buildings, but we try to keep a low profile."_

_"We?"_

_"I have partners."_

_"Let me guess - the Justice League. The Flash, Wonder Woman, and Superman."_

_Ranger looked like he was thinking about smiling._

_"Okay, forget the partners," I said. "I want to get back to the Bat Cave. Is there a Bat Cave?"_

_Ranger took a bagel and speared some lox onto it. "You're going to have to work harder for that one. It's not in the phone book, and GPS isn't going to take you there."_

_A challenge._

_Ten Big Ones_

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I woke up to another gray, sunless day, with the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering against the windows of my room. It felt strange, which was only natural considering that I was in a strange house, lying in a strange bed, and wearing strange clothes. Don't get me wrong - everything was very nice, but strange, nonetheless.

I've said it before and I'll probably say it again: If there's a woman out there who could get me to switch sides, her name would be Ella Guzman. Ranger's housekeeper truly is a Wonder Woman; she can do anything, get anything and I'm pretty sure she can cook anything, too. Actually, she's a living saint - 'Saint Ella of the RangeMen'. I don't know how she does all the things she's able to do, but the Man of Mystery is extremely lucky to have her.

Last night, when Ranger opened the suitcase that Ella had packed for me, I had to smile. Not only had she remembered the _**exact**_ brand of every hair and body product I used, but she also provided me with items she knew _**I**_ would appreciate. Yes, that woman had tucked several packets of Butterscotch Krimpets in between the spare t-shirts and underwear in the travel bag. I _**love**_ Saint Ella!

The only issue I had with anything in the suitcase was that all the clothes were brand-spanking new. Once again, everything was very nice - panties and bras from Victoria's Secret, jeans and t-shirts from the Gap, Nike running shoes. This was some primo stuff. And, most surprising of all, _**none**_ of it was black! It's just that, well, I felt self-conscious about how much this must have cost Ranger. I wasn't sure I like him spending money on me like this.

In fact, I hated being indebted to Ranger any more than I already was. I know he said there was no 'tab' between us; but now that I planned on my job with RangeMan becoming my primary source of income and skip-chasing for Vinnie mostly supplemental, I suddenly felt strange about Ranger providing me a mini-wardrobe just for an extended stay in the safe house. If only he had driven me back to my parents' house last night, I could have packed my own things. Then again, I probably wouldn't have come away with him once my mother got a good look at me with my torn clothes, sand-scraped skin and blackened eye.

Sighing over my current state, I snuggled deeper under the covers, drifted back to the blissful land of denial and slept for a while longer. The delicious, eye-opening aroma of coffee finally filtered its way into my brain and I tried to get up - 'tried' being the operative word here. It felt as though I had one gigantic bruise covering my whole body. Remembering my tackle and subsequent struggle with John Cantrell, I shuddered to think what my face must look like now. Nevertheless, once I smelled the coffee, no amount of pain was going to prevent me from seeking and finding the source of the caffeine I now craved.

"Good afternoon, Babe," Ranger said, peering at me across the rim of his coffee mug.

"Afternoon?" I replied. I felt my knees go weak at the sight of the Cuban sex-god sitting on the couch, sipping his coffee and staring at me as though _**I**_ was his next meal. I gulped and said, "The smell of coffee woke me up. What time is it, anyway?"

"It's a little after two."

I had slept until two in the afternoon? Jeez! I guess all that crying and tackling and rolling around in the sand really took a lot out of me. Again, I shuddered to think what I must look like, but my need for caffeine overrode any cares about my appearance. Ranger, as usual, must have read my mind.

"Babe, I admit that you **_do_** look a little scary, but I'm certainly enjoying the view from here. Unfortunately, so are the guys on the monitors back at RangeMan."

I squinted at him, trying to decipher what he'd said, and then it hit me. Oh, crap! I looked down at myself and realized that I was wearing the pajamas Ella had purchased for me. I usually just wore a tank top or t-shirt and boy boxers to bed, but Saint Ella obviously thought I needed a Victoria's Secret pink satin camisole with matching full-length pants. It really wasn't all that revealing, especially when compared to my regular selection of sleepwear, but the silky material did cling to my body in a rather sexy way.

"Yeah," he confirmed my thoughts, "So ... you might want to put on something a little less ... _**clingy**_ before you walk around the house any further. Remember? Cameras? Mics?" And he glanced all around the room for emphasis.

"Oops! I forgot." And I crossed my arms over my chest in a vain attempt at modesty.

"I'm sure the guys in the control room are grateful for your memory lapse," he chuckled. "Now, go put some real clothes on before I have to scramble every circuit in this house." His eyes had become very dark with desire and I'm sure the guys back at RangeMan weren't the _**only**_ ones who were glad to see me in my pajamas.

I hurried back into my room and locked the door behind me, stifling a shriek when I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Regardless of the scary hair, I could just imagine the guys in the control room falling out of their chairs at the jiggle-y eyeful I gave them this morning. I got dressed in jeans and a stretchy white t-shirt in no time flat. Because it was a little chilly in the house, I also put on a fleece pullover that was a pretty shade of red. Even though everything was new, nothing felt stiff and I briefly wondered how Ella had managed that.

Thankfully, my hair wasn't a complete disaster; I was able to tame it with some water and a generous application of my favorite hair gel. A few swipes of mascara and a dab of clear lip gloss and I was ready to face the world - or at least Ranger and the host of hidden cameras feeding my image back to the guys in the control room. Once again, I sent up silent prayers of gratitude for the blessings bestowed upon me by Saint Ella.

Walking slowly, with as much dignity as I could muster, I left my room and walked down the small staircase to the next level. Reemerging in the living room, I waved at all the cameras I could see. I attempted to move past Ranger, who was still sitting on the couch, but he reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Just so you know, the only junk food in this house - the only stuff made with refined flour and sugar - is whatever Ella stashed in your suitcase for you," he said, his eyes dancing with laughter, "I don't want to hear you whining about the food in the kitchen. It's all very nutritious and it's much better for you than the crap you usually eat."

"I _**don't**_ whine!" I said as I pulled my wrist away from him and continued on to the kitchen, snapping over my shoulder, "And peanut butter is nutritious, too."

Opening the refrigerator door, I stifled a groan. Whole-grain bread, low-fat cottage cheese, skim milk, assorted lean deli meats and a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables stared back at me from the gleaming shelves. The cupboards were similarly bleak with fat-free granola bars, whole-grain crackers and all sorts of good-for-you selections. No doughnuts, no peanut butter, no cake. Of course, I felt like complaining, but I was _**not**_ going to give Ranger the satisfaction of being right about my whining.

I poured myself a mug of coffee, but my search for sugar and cream proved to be pointless. Scowling, I put a few tablespoons of skim milk into the mug and hoped for the best. Since I had awoken well after breakfast or even brunch hours, I made myself a turkey sandwich, selected an apple, a single-serving container of the cottage cheese and some rice crackers to eat. Then I took everything into the dining room to have my 'healthy' meal. Oh, how I wished for a doughnut!

Ranger got up from the couch and sauntered into the dining room. Still feeling a little miffed, I forced myself to concentrate on the food in front of me. I ate most of it, but I wasn't exactly satisfied. When I finally looked up at my host, it looked like he was stifling a smile.

"What?" I said.

"You're so cute when you're ... not happy about your options."

I decided to ignore him, which was a very hard thing to do because he had set his mug down on the table and was now sitting across from me, watching me finish the last of the rice crackers. I felt like a mouse, nervously nibbling away at some bait, while a prowling cat prepared to pounce. Shifting in my chair, I gazed out the window and saw that the sky was beginning to clear.

"Will it be alright if I take a walk around the neighborhood?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Or is that not allowed here?"

"Babe." It seemed as though Ranger was going to say something else, but then he stopped himself. After a moment, he said, "You're free to do as you please. I'm just glad you woke up when you did. I thought you were going to sleep all day and into the night. In fact, if you had slept much longer, I would have had a dilemma as to whether or not to wake you when it was time for me to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Yes, my plane leaves from Newark at eight o'clock tonight, so I'm glad you woke up on your own. How do you feel now?"

"I ... I'm fine." _Liar, liar, pants on fire!_ My stomach felt like it just dropped to my feet. I dredged up enough nerve to ask, "Um ...where are you going?"

"Off-line. Just for a few days."

"Wow. I thought superheroes always stayed on the job."

"Babe, even Superman takes a little R & R from time to time - and I'm not him," he said, placing his hands on the table. "All those double and triple shifts finally caught up with me. Now that those punks are behind bars, I can take a break and get fully recharged."

"When will you be back?"

"Middle of next week at the latest."

"Can I come with you?" I blurted out before my mind could fully think it through.

"Babe." Ranger's voice had an almost warning tone to it and I wasn't sure if he was telling me no because he didn't want anyone to tag along, or that he just didn't want _**me**_ to tag along with him.

"I mean ... well, that is .... my bag's all packed and everything. If you don't have anything important for me to work on back at the office, maybe I could just--" And, feeling like a complete dope, I let the rest of the sentence trail off.

Ranger shook his head at me and said, "Look, Stephanie, I _**know**_ this is bad timing for you. Two nights ago, when Tank told me that he thought I should take a break, I did consider asking you to come along with me. But that was before ... before I learned of your break-up with Morelli. You need time to figure things out for yourself, Babe. And then there was the whole ordeal with Cantrell and the Cafferty women. I just feel that it would be taking unfair advantage of you if you ... if we went away together so soon afterward."

"Where did you say you were going?"

"I didn't say." Then the corner of Ranger's mouth curved upward in that almost-smile of his and I _**knew**_. Omigod! He was going to the Bat Cave! This could be my chance to find out if it actually existed and, if so, where it was located. But ... Ranger once told me that going to the Bat Cave was a forever deal. Was I ready for forever? Suddenly, it felt like there wasn't enough air in the room.

"Breathe, Babe. Your brain needs the oxygen to think clearly."

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Didn't have to - I saw your eyes glaze over and then your lips started to turn blue."

"Oh." I blinked and shook my head to clear it.

Ranger waited for me to take a few deep breaths and then he spoke very slowly, "Before you decide anything, you need to know that coming with me isn't just a one-way deal; there _**are**_ consequences, Babe. Remember, I once told you that time spent with me would ruin you for all other men, and I still mean that. I'm not like Joe Morelli. I cannot - I _**will not**_ - share you with him or any other man."

Something about that comment put me on the defensive and I sputtered, "That's not what we ... Joe wasn't ... dammit Ranger! You _**know**_ you poached! In fact, you've been poaching for a very long time."

His voice was quiet and calm. "And yet, neither you nor Morelli ever did anything to put an end to it - not really. Did you ever stop to wonder why not?"

I hesitated before stuttering my feeble answer. "I ... no, I mean ... I don't know."

"I think you do know." Ranger's intense gaze saw right through to my soul and pierced it. "There's still a lot of unfinished business between me and you, Babe. You know it and I suspect Morelli's always sensed it, too."

Now my stomach was starting to feel squishy. Ranger was right. Even though Joe and I had never really talked about it like adults, there had always been this barrier between us - and his name was Ranger. I hated that the whole thing made me feel like such a slut. What was wrong with me? I didn't want to end up like Susanna Cafferty and bring shame and disgust upon my daughter someday. That is, assuming I'd ever have any children in the first place. Look at me now - I was getting ready to abandon poor Rex for a chance at seeing the Bat Cave.

Ranger continued in his infuriatingly calm voice, "You _**do**_ have a couple of other options, Steph."

"Such as?"

Ranger took a deep breath and said, "Two days ago, after you helped me put an end to the threat to my company, I planned a little R & R trip. I always make sure that my men take a break when they need one and they encourage me to do likewise. It helps us all stay sharp. Anyway, I was going to ask if you wanted to ... join me. However, in light of the past few day's activities and ... revelations, I thought it would be wise if I laid out a few options for you - just in case it's ... not the right time for you to ... make any significant changes in your life."

The hesitation in his voice was unnerving to me. Ranger always sounded so confident, so sure of himself. Now he sounded almost ... nervous. His demeanor suddenly had me on edge. I had the sensation that, regardless of what he said about it not being the right time to make any significant changes, the course of my life was about to change. Whatever options he was about to present to me, I knew that my choice would determine my immediate fate.

"Alright, let's hear these options," I said, holding my hands tightly together under the table where Ranger couldn't see them trembling.

"If you want to return to your parents' house," he began, "Tank will come and get you and take you back to the Burg tonight. When you go back in to work at RangeMan, my business manager will have a letter of instruction which will guide you through the process of receiving your share of the reward money for us capturing John Cantrell, as well as the payment for your services in solving the crimes against RangeMan. He and Tank will help you with everything. Steph, you're finally going to have enough money to get out of debt. You'll be able to buy a new car, get a new place and stock your kitchen with however many doughnuts and jars of peanut butter you wish. And you know you'll always have job security, as well as security on the job, at RangeMan."

"Gee, Ranger, that ... that almost sounds like a kiss-off," I said, feeling an edge of snippiness creep into my voice. "Am I right?"

"Not exactly, Babe," he sighed. "There are a lot of other cold cases, like Cantrell's, that I'd like you to work on and I have some ideas on how we can work together to capitalize on our ... **_unusual_** abilities to find people who don't want to be found. Also, I ... I'm giving you the space you need to work out your feelings about Morelli - _**without**_ any pressure from me. You can stay at your job at RangeMan for as long as you like, but I'll probably be making some changes in the way I do things at the office."

"Such as?" I repeated.

"I'll probably be away more often. Mostly down at the Miami office."

"I see. And my other option?"

"If you're not ready to go home, I will honor your request to allow you to 'hide out' here at this safe house for as long as you want. That way, you won't have to face your parents, or anyone else back in the Burg, until you feel up to it. It also gives your injuries, especially that black eye, a chance to heal up, so you'll look better by the time things have calmed down at home. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing here; Tank and Ella will make sure that you have whatever you need for a nice, carefree stay."

"And my job at RangeMan?"

"The situation at the office would be the same as I just described for the other option."

"What if I chose to hang out here for a while and not go to work just yet?" I asked, "Would you ... stay with me, if I asked you to?"

"I'm sorry, Babe," Ranger shook his head, but his eyes never broke contact with mine. "No matter which option _**you**_ choose, _**I've**_ got to go someplace where I can be off-line - and that's nowhere near here. I _**need**_ to get away, plain and simple. Like I said, whenever my guys need a break, I make sure they get it and they make sure I get my breaks, too. That's how my team works. It's very important."

"Am I ... am _**I**_ a member of your team, Ranger?"

"I suppose so. In many ways, yes."

"Then ... if _**I**_ need one of these oh-so-important breaks, would accompanying you on your little R & R trip be permitted, if that's the option I want now?"

A muscle in his jaw flexed and I knew I had him cornered. But cornering Ranger wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. I had tried to get the upper hand with him once or twice before and I always ended up backing down. His next words to me were a warning and I knew I'd better tread carefully.

"If you come away with me now, Stephanie Plum, I won't let go of you easily. I'm a selfish man, and I'll want you with me always. However, there are ... risks to being with me and I would not wish them upon my worst enemy, let alone anyone I truly care for."

"You truly care for me?"

"Babe," he sounded hurt. "Only _**you**_ would doubt it."

"Okay, then I _**want**_ to come with--"

Ranger shook his head slightly and said, "No, Babe. This is not a decision you should make lightly - or simply because you want to run and hide from your problems for a while. My plane doesn't leave from Newark until tonight. Why don't you take the next hour or so to really think about all your options? It's important that I know you're not just making a snap decision. Please, Steph. _**Please**_, do this for me."

Damn him! He said "please" again and I just couldn't fight that without looking like a complete ass. "Alright. Fine. One hour, and then I'll let you know what I've decided. But you know how the airport gets on rainy days like today."

"Babe."

I put up my hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm just gonna get another cup of coffee and then I ... I guess I'll be in my room until ... one hour from now." Then I got up from the table, tossed my trash into the kitchen garbage can, and poured more hot coffee into my mug. I decided to drink it black this time - the skim milk and no sugar option was definitely out.

I sighed as I remembered all the cameras and mics around the house. Crap! My open-book life just got more open. Sashaying back through the living room, I waved at the cameras as I made my way up the stairs and into my room. Feeling churlish, I hoped Ranger - as well as all the guys eavesdropping in the control room - winced when I slammed the door.

After I flopped down onto the bed, I did some heavy thinking. Okay, so the Man of Mystery had made some very good points, but from my point of view, **_all_** of these options were cursed with bad timing. Yes, it would look awful if I went away with Ranger so soon after my break-up with Morelli. It probably would hurt Joe, too, even though that's not what I intended to do. Yes, I understood that going the distance with Ranger would mean that I'd have to make some radical changes in my lifestyle - for instance, I'd most likely have to do actual exercises and eat more salad. And right before the holiday season, too. Maybe I'd even have to drink black coffee all the time. Oh, joy!

However, when I considered the pros and cons of each of my options, I realized that I simply did not care about all that stuff anymore. If I went back to the Burg tonight, my mother would fuss over me and my injuries. Then she'd fuss _**about**_ me and my choices and I know she'd try to get me back together with Joe somehow. If I stayed here at the safe house, I'd still have the same problems in the Burg. Even if I tried to sneak into work, with my luck, someone would spot me and then I'd be in even more trouble with my folks.

The thing is, Ranger didn't know about _**everything**_ that was packed into my suitcase. He only got a quick glance at the topmost items in the bag when he opened it for me. Sure, there were plenty of Krimpets - well, not so many after I ate a few to make up for that sadly nutritious meal. But he hadn't seen what Ella had placed at the bottom of the bag - a bright blue print bikini! And there was a coordinating beach cover-up to go with it. Additionally, tucked away under the jeans and t-shirts, there was a pair of denim shorts, a khaki mini-skirt, a nice blouse and some slightly dressy, rhinestone-studded flip-flops.

I'd bet everything in my meager savings account that Ranger was going someplace where the weather was nice and warm. I'd also bet that Ella knew enough about his trip to know that he _**might**_ want me to accompany him on it. And now that I knew about my options, I _**definitely**_ wanted to go along. Screw New Jersey and its blustery November weather! If there was even the _**hint**_ of a possibility of me having the chance to lie on a sunny beach and wiggle my toes into some warm sand, I was going there tonight. With Ranger. To his Bat Cave, wherever the heck it was. And the consequences? Well, I'd just have to deal with them later!

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A/N: Just for fun and inspiration, I surfed over to the Victoria's Secret website and found the pajamas, swimsuit and beach cover-up Ella bought for Stephanie. The jammies are Victoria's Secret Soft Satin trim cami and pant set in blush rose. The swimwear is the ring halter top with side-tie scoop bottom in cobalt paisley, and the plunge cover-up tunic in ultramarine. I hope you'll check them out! Let me know what you think. Thanks! :D

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Chapter 9: Options


	10. Chapter 10

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: I must apologize for the confusion I caused several readers to experience last time with Stephanie's POV. I hope this chapter will clear up the mess I've made. I think that once you see the action from Ranger's viewpoint, everything I wrote in the previous chapter will make more sense. If the Man of Mystery seemed to be a little OOC, remember, we were seeing things through Stephanie's eyes and she doesn't always see clearly. Again, this chapter is in Ranger's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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I narrowed my eyes at him. "So what's the point here?"

_"The point is that you can break down a person's defense system if you apply the right pressure."_

_"Are you telling me that this was just a demonstration? You got me into this ... this __**state **__to prove a point?"_

_His hands were still at my waist, holding me against him. "How serious is this __**state**__?" he asked._

_If it was any more serious I'd spontaneously combust. "It's not that serious," I told him._

_"Liar."_

_"How serious is __**your state**__?"_

_"Frighteningly serious."_

_Seven Up_

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Chapter 10: Control Freak

Call me a control freak - others have done so and I don't dispute their accusations. I sleep better when I have total control over my environment, my schedule and myself. Some people might consider this trait to be a liability, but I'm pretty good at hiding what I do, so my actions often go unnoticed. Of course, I admit that this has caused problems in my personal relationships, but compared to some of my other issues, I feel that being a control freak is fairly minor.

Although my Babe is much more intelligent than most people give her credit for, she sometimes can be a little slow on the uptake. I think she's forgotten just how much 'insider information' about herself that she's given to me over time. I remember giving her a lesson about gathering information that basically taught her to apply pressure in the right spot so that things will start to break down. I told her that people will open up when you apply the right kind of pressure for the situation. She was skeptical at first, but I thought she came around to my way of thinking after a very effective demonstration of the power of persuasive pressure.

Now, I knew I was playing a dangerous game with Stephanie. On the one hand, she hates being told what to do, so I've tried to 'package' my desires as requests to her. On the other hand, she likes it when someone takes good care of her, so I've provided certain things she needs in order to feel confident and secure. It's a delicate balance because she's also very intuitive and gets pissed-off and dangerously impulsive when she thinks she's being manipulated. Luckily for me, Morelli never seemed to figure this out for himself. It's either that, or he's way more stubborn than I thought he was and his attitudes finally worked against him in the end.

As for me and my plan to make Stephanie my own, I thought I was doing a good job, so far. Rather than asking her outright to come along with me on my little trip, I presented three options to her. That way, whichever one she chooses, she'll feel like _**she's **_in control. Of course, I worded two of these options in a way that I knew would have her longing for the third option. Knowing that she wouldn't want to deal with her family or friends after her break-up with Morelli, I painted a somewhat distasteful mental picture of her staying behind and handling the situation on her own. The expressions flashing across her face told me everything I needed to know. She wanted to come with me - badly.

There was always the chance that my Babe would choose to stay behind, but I asked her to go to her room and carefully consider all of the options for an hour before she gave me her final answer. Besides, she already wanted to tell me about her decision to accompany me, but I wouldn't let her say anything about it for the next hour. When she slammed the door to her room, I knew I'd won. Still, leaving her alone to stew by herself could be dangerous.

Stephanie's intense curiosity usually gets the better of her, so I knew she'd examine every item in the suitcase Ella packed for her. I also realized that it was only a matter of time before my Babe figured out that I might be going someplace warm and sunny, especially since Ella had packed the bag almost to my exact specifications. The only things that weren't on the list I'd given to my housekeeper were those damn snack cakes. If Ella's meddling throws my plans off-track, I will become quite upset.

Don't get me wrong, I love Ella; she often takes better care of me than my own mother ever could - or would - do. It's just that I'd given my usually-compliant housekeeper a very specific shopping list for Stephanie's suitcase and those Butterscotch Krimpets definitely were _**not**_ on it. Part of my overall plan for the rest of the week was to deprive my Babe of the sugar her body normally craves in the hope that she'd start to crave something else - namely, me. I nearly choked when I saw the large 'stash' of little cakes Ella had provided.

Shopping on-line had been a whole lot of fun for me. I know the kinds of clothes my Babe likes to wear and I wanted her to feel comfortable with the outfits she found in her travel bag. It was easy for me to find the jeans and t-shirts she'd most likely choose for herself. Also,I made sure that none of the items was black, figuring that Steph would give **_Ella_** full credit for such a colorful wardrobe. Then I checked with the stores at Quaker Bridge Mall to ensure that they had all of my choices in stock so that Ella could purchase the clothes quickly, pack them up and then put the specially-prepared suitcases in the back of the Cayenne.

Of course, my favorite selections came from Victoria's Secret. I could have spent the whole day imagining my Babe in all the sexy little outfits displayed on that website, but since I didn't have much time, I chose what I knew was immediately available at the local store. The bikini was a no-brainer, but the pajamas were a much more difficult choice. It was highly likely that Steph would wake up and walk around the safe house without thinking about the presence of the security cameras. As usual, my Babe didn't disappoint; those pink pajamas looked great on her. I certainly was glad I had chosen something she'd wear that wouldn't force me to erase the memories from the men who were watching our little 'show' on their monitors back at the RangeMan control room.

The thing about all of my safe houses is that they have around-the-clock surveillance one hundred percent of the time regardless of whether someone is in residence. I need to know and record everything that happens when we are using these properties and it's important to know if anyone comes snooping around these places when my people aren't there. I do have the capability to scramble certain cameras, such as the one in Steph's bedroom and bath, but I had a different reason for allowing some of my men to be 'voyeurs' while we stayed here.

It's nice to knowthat the men of RangeMan believe in and are supportive of my physical relationship with Stephanie, even though they don't know the reality of the situation. However, when she becomes a permanent part of my life - and of our team - I'll have to establish much firmer boundaries so that we'll be able to enjoy some privacy within the building. My men don't know it yet, but their video access to our PDA is about to become much more limited than it has been up to now. Of course, my Babe's spontaneity will always provide lots of interesting camera shots for them to ogle, but I don't intend for our _**entire**_ life to be on display in the control room.

Another reason I've allowed most of the cameras in the safe house to remain activated is that parts of my conversation with Stephanie were purely for Tank's benefit. I wanted to show him that it's possible to handle a difficult woman without completely losing one's mind. Everyone knows that Tank is still in love with Lula, but she ran him ragged when they were engaged. Only the skills he had honed as an expert in psychological warfare saved him from having a nervous breakdown at that time. I figured that if I could demonstrate how to steer a woman in a desired direction, then perhaps my old friend would be inspired to try again with that crazy woman he loves so much. That was my hope, anyway.

During the hour that Stephanie was in her room pretending to consider the options I'd presented to her, I thought about a few options of my own. I knew that I would have to face her parents, as well as that crazy grandmother of hers, in the near future, and I decided that I'd better lay down the framework I desired sooner rather than later. I wasn't confident that the ways in which I dealt with my own family would pass muster in the Plum household.

My parents and all of my siblings still lived in and around Newark, but they rarely expected to see me in their homes unless there was a special event or celebration. In fact, my mother recently warned me that nothing short of World War III had better get in the way of my attendance at my Grandma Rosa's upcoming eightieth birthday party. I'd already started thinking about taking Stephanie to that event so she'd be able to meet everyone all at once. I wouldn't be surprised if she hated that idea - I know I hated to even think about it - but she'd have to meet my family at some point in time anyway. Once that was over, perhaps they'd leave us alone.

I blew out a sigh. Who was I trying to fool? I intended to make Stephanie Plum a permanent part of my life. Once that happened, there was no doubt in my mind that _**both **_of our families would expect us to show up more frequently at their dining room tables. Part of me didn't think I'd be able to handle that challenge. I liked the fact that my family considered me to be a "lone wolf" and they didn't pester me about being away from them so much. All of my previous freedom was certain to end when Steph became mine.

My cell phone vibrated while I was pondering the implications of both Stephanie's and my decisions. I had turned off all the sounds so that she wouldn't be disturbed by any ringing while she sulked in her room. Glancing at the display, I saw that Tank was calling me.

"Yo," I said softly.

"Yo yourself," Tank sounded like he was smiling. "I figured out what you're doing and all I can say is that I'm impressed. That's quite the little PsyOps deal you've got going on and I want you to know I've been taking notes. Ranger, you are one _**twisted **_sonovabitch."

"Hooah." (_You don't know the half of it._)

"Okay, I've got good news and bad news."

"Give me the bad first."

"This rain that we're having right now is part of a major weather system that's heading our way. It's gonna mess up air traffic all along the East Coast all night long."

"Hmm."

"It gets worse. I called our friends at the weather station in Dover and they said the storm system looks so bad that it's only a matter of time before everything's grounded for the night. The earlier flights out of Newark, La Guardia and JFK are already booked solid with other travelers trying to beat the weather. You can fly out of Philly, but you'd have to make it to the airport and through security by 1800 hours. It's 1530 now and there's no guarantee I can get you there in time, but it might be worth a shot."

"And the good news?"

"I've already got you two booked in first class seating on the next flight out and my ETA to your location is approximately ten minutes. It'll save time if I drive you there; that way, I can just drop you off in front of the terminal and you can run right in. One of the guys can retrieve the Cayenne from the safe house later."

"Hooah." (_Sounds like a good plan. Let's do it_.)

"Be there in a few." And he disconnected.

Like I said before, I'm a bit of a control freak. I feel great when I have total control over my environment, my schedule and myself. Right now, I felt anything but great. I couldn't control the weather; I couldn't control the flight schedules; and I could barely control myself. Glancing at my watch, I saw that Stephanie still had more than thirty minutes before she was supposed to tell me which option she wanted. Oh, well, she'd have to adapt, adjust and overcome now - just the same as I did.

Nevertheless, I knew was in deep trouble. There were lots of problems, but the biggest one that I could see was that no matter which option Stephanie chose, Tank would be here within minutes, expecting her to have already agreed to go with me. It was time for me to pour on a little of the Mañoso charm and move things along in the right direction. I only hoped that she'd be receptive to my friendliness by now.

"Steph?" I asked as I knocked on the door. "Stephanie, open up. I need to talk to you. There's been a major change of plans and you need to make your decision **_right now_**."

She opened the door and leaned against the door frame with one arm stretched upward, her head tilted seductively toward it. "Why so early? Did you come up with some more options for me to ponder? Such as, maybe I could stay here and start house-hunting with all the money I'm going to get soon. After all, this _**is **_a nice neighborhood. Or perhaps you were thinking that I could stay in _**your **_apartment while you're away? Now _**that**_ would make my work commute quite convenient, as well as hush-hush. No one in the Burg would even know I was around."

Dios mio! My Babe was gorgeous when she was being a smartass. Knowing that I was entering dangerous ground, I slid my hands around her waist and pulled her close to me. Surprise registered in her eyes, but I only noticed it in passing since I'd brought my mouth down against hers. Little alarm bells started going off in my mind as I began to kiss Steph more and more deeply. I had to release her before we went any further and we both stood there panting for a moment.

"Wh-what was that about?" Steph asked; her blue eyes were dark with passion and I was sure that mine mirrored hers.

"Alright, I confess," I said, sounding somewhat contrite - I hoped. "That was to help you decide. Those other options you mentioned are pretty good, too, but we're actually out of time. Tank just called to say that he's on his way to pick me up now because my flight has been changed to an earlier time from a different location. I'll have to leave in a few minutes. Have you made up your mind, yet?"

"Yes!" She said and panic filled her eyes as she looked around room at the mess she'd made of her clothes and other items. "I want to come with you tonight." Then she began to throw everything back into the suitcase as fast as she could. "However, I do have some conditions."

"Conditions?" I said as I leaned back against the door frame and watched her zoom around the room, checking under the bed and in the bathroom for anything she might have missed.

"Mm-hmm." She nodded and continued, "You told me that I'm going to have a lot of money in my bank account. That sounds great. So ... I want you to let me pay my own way on this little R & R trip of yours."

"But Steph, I--"

"No 'buts'! Either you let me pay my way - starting with reimbursing you for that suitcase full of very nice clothes - or I don't go at all."

"Babe, I never said you _**had**_ to go in the first place. You have those other options, too. Remember?"

"Then what was that kiss about, Ranger? Just trying to help me decide, huh? Decide what?" She stepped back and held up her hands in surrender. "I give up, Ranger. What kind of a game is this that we're playing here?"

"_**This**_ is not a game," I mentally chided myself for being such a liar and silently promised to make up for it later. "I'm sorry to cut your decision time short, but as I said, Tank will be here any minute now to pick me up. Like I also said earlier, you can stay here or Tank can take you back to your parents' house or you can come with me. I just ... felt like kissing you at that moment, you know, **_before_** you made your choice. What do you want to do, Babe?"

Stephanie stared at me and then shook her head in what almost looked like disgust. "I already told you that I want to come with you - _**an hour ago**_! Thanks for the other options, but you **_know_** as well as I do that I wasn't inclined to choose either of them. I suspect that you're headed out to someplace warm and sunny and _**that's**_ where I want to be, too - someplace warm and sunny ... with you."

I closed the small distance between us and kissed her again. She kissed me back with the equal passion and I thought I just might explode with joy. No longer thinking clearly, I tugged at her shirt and she tugged at mine until our hands were touching each other's bare skin. I had backed her into her room - and away from the security cameras - and we'd almost reached the unmade bed when the doorbell rang. Crap! Tank was here already and it really was time to go now.

We quickly disentangled ourselves and readjusted our clothes as we heard the door locks tumble. The smoldering look in my Babe's eyes held great promise for what would come later. Thinking about that future scenario was almost my undoing and I fought to regain control of myself. I kissed Steph once more, but only very lightly, before I walked out of her room and went down the stairs to greet Tank.

We loaded our bags into the back of Tank's SUV while he did a final security check of the safe house and locked everything up. Stephanie stretched out in the back seat and I rode up front with Tank. Usually, I'm the one who drives, but Tank wanted me to look over some paperwork while he tried to avoid getting a speeding ticket. Unless we hit a major traffic jam, it looked like we just might make it to the airport on time.

The rain had stopped for the moment, but the cloud cover in the sky was still quite dense and foreboding. I was glad that Tank had been on top of things with the weather reports and fight schedules. There was no way I could have controlled myself for another minute if I'd stayed alone in the safe house with Stephanie. Not surprisingly, my Babe fell asleep as soon as we reached the highway, so I took it upon myself to call her parents and inform them that she'd be out of town for a few days.

"Hello? Mr. Plum? This is Carlos Mañoso." I spoke quietly into my cell phone so that I wouldn't wake Steph, but I knew that Tank probably would be able hear both ends of the conversation. That was alright with me because there were very few secrets between us anyway.

"Who is this again? You probably have the wrong num--"

"Stephanie's friend, Ranger."

"Oh. **_Ranger_**!" He exclaimed."Why didn't you just say so?"

I saw Tank smile at me and I glared back at him.

"Do you have a moment to talk?" I asked, trying to be extra polite.

"Yeah, sure. I understand that my daughter is with you now. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, sir. We're headed to the airport, but Stephanie is asleep, so I'm calling on her behalf."

"Let me take a guess: the two of you are running off to get married."

"I ... uh ..." Whoa! I certainly didn't see that coming! Tank looked like he was about to choke.

Mr. Plum continued, "I might not say a whole lot, but I'm not stupid, Ranger. I've seen the way you and Stephanie look at each other - even with Morelli right there in the picture - so don't try to tell me that marriage hasn't crossed your mind."

"Sir, that's not really why I called--"

"Listen, do me a favor. Do _**yourself**_ a favor. Just _**elope **_and be done with it already!

"Mr. Plum, I really think that'll be Stephanie's decision to make someday, but--"

"Stephanie's already had the big frou-frou wedding and, let me tell you, _**that**_ was a total fiasco! And I'm sure you saw what happened when my other daughter almost had another big wedding. What a frigging circus! My wife and my crazy mother-in-law always go berserk when they start thinking about bridesmaids' dresses and reception halls. Spare me - please!"

"Mr. Plum, I really only called to let you know that Stephanie will be away for a few days. She's decided to accompany me on a ... short trip. Nothing fancy; I'm taking a little vacation and she asked if she could tag along. I know that my business partner, Tank, already returned your Buick and he spoke briefly with your wife. I just wanted to reassure you that your daughter will be back in Trenton by the end of next week."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud! Don't just shack up with my little girl like Joe Morelli did. The guys at my lodge still give me grief over that, even though it's none of their damn business. I can't take another round of that crapola!"

"Sir, I don't intend to--"

"My cousin tells me you're the best bounty hunter on the East Coast and I believe him," he interrupted me. "I know Vinnie's a weasel, but he's a better judge of character than most people around here and he thinks **_you're_** like some kind of Batman - you know, someone with a sense of duty and honor, who doesn't take crap from nobody."

I continued to glare at Tank until he stopped smirking.

"I'm not quite Batman, but I--"

He cut me off again, saying, "Vinnie also tells me you've saved my Stephanie's life more times than I really want to know about. Is that true?"

"Trouble always seems to find your daughter, Mr. Plum, but she's very resilient and I try my best to help her get out of the bad situations." Phew! Diplomacy at its best.

"Call me Frank."

"Okay ... Frank."

"Look here, Ranger, I only ever really knew one other Black man in my entire life and he was a great guy, too. We served in the Army together."

Tank was trying hard not to laugh out loud now, but I was struggling to control my temper. I was able to hold my own voice steady enough to say, "I didn't realize that you had served a lot of time in the Army ... Frank."

"Oh no, it was only a few years. That was back in the days of the draft when almost every man served his country - even Elvis. I got out after my enlistment was up, but Hatch said he was gonna stay in forever. Not enough jobs around here for his kind, you know. He went on to become a Green Beret, too. You might have heard of him - Sergeant Major Clarence Hatcher?"

Whoa! This was something else I hadn't seen coming! Tank and I exchanged surprised glances. Stephanie's father had served with the legendary 'Top Hatch'? Of course I knew the man - in fact, _**everybody **_down at Fort Benning knew him; SGM Hatcher had survived four combat tours of Viet Nam and was on the mission to Grenada in the early 1980s. The man was like a cat with nine lives.

By the time I became an Army Ranger, SGM Hatcher had retired from his highly decorated active duty career, but he still could kick all our asses. He was now a well-respected consultant to the SpecOps community. I realized at that moment that I'd need to give Frank Plum way more credit than I had in the past. In all the craziness of her family, it appears that I had missed out on the notion that my Babe probably got a lot of her 'hidden talents' from her father's end of the gene pool.

"I definitely know SGM Hatcher. I've even had the privilege of attending a couple of classes he taught at Ranger School."

"Well, you sorta remind me of Hatch, so all I'm saying is that if Stephanie wants to be with you, I'm all for it."

"Okay, Frank, but I'm not Black. I'm actually Cuban-American. Half of my family lives in Newark and the other half is down in Miami. We speak both English and Spanish equally well and everyone is gainfully employed."

"Fine! Whatever! Good for you!" He made a rude noise and then went on to rant, "Dickie Orr was white as snow and look what that horse's ass did to my little girl! The only thing Morelli has **_ever_** had going for him was the fact that he's a full-blooded Italian. Unfortunately, the men in his family are all a bunch of bums. It would only have been a matter of time before he cheated on Stephanie, or worse. And don't even get me started on that maniac, what's-his-name, that guy Stephanie was planning to marry for all of five minutes. Oh yeah, Diesel! Cripes! I don't care what you are, Ranger, just treat my daughter right and we'll be okay."

"Yes, sir, Frank. That's the plan."

"Oh yeah, one more thing. You've been inside my house, so you know I'm surrounded by crazy females all day long. One frigging boy - a grand_**son**_ - is that too much to ask for? And listen, Ranger, I know that Stephanie can barely take care of that rodent of hers, but, hey, a man's gotta dream, right?"

"Right," was the only thing I could say at that point. I was practically speechless.

"Well, I gotta go now. It's been nice talkin' to you, but I just received a call for a late pick-up. Thanks for letting me know what the deal is with you and Stephanie. And don't worry about my wife; I'll explain everything to her when the time comes." And then he disconnected.

I shook my head to clear it. Frank Plum hadn't said more than a paragraph's worth of words to me since the day I'd met him and yet, just now, I could hardly get a word in edgewise. Actually, I had the strangest feeling that I'd just been outmaneuvered by a real pro. Yes, my Babe definitely took after her old man. Thankfully, Tank didn't say a word for the next ten minutes.

"You signed off on the Zuckerman and Rowan accounts, right?" Tank finally asked, glancing at the sheaf of papers in my hand.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hooah." (_Yes, and thanks for not mentioning that phone conversation._)

"The schedule looks okay to you?"

"Isn't Bobby due for some R & R soon?"

"He said he wants to wait until his girlfriend has her holiday break from med school."

"Hmm. Put him on the lightest shift until then. No arguments."

"Hooah." (_No problemo_.)

"Anything else?" I asked as we took the exit toward the airport.

"There's one last thing, Ranger," Tank glanced in the rearview mirror to check that Steph was still sleeping and then he lowered his voice. "Don't you think you've played enough mind games for one day? _**Now**_ is the time to tell Stephanie everything. Don't come back up here until you do. You can tell her about me, too. I don't mind and I don't think the other guys will mind, either. I'm sure she'll understand. In fact, I think it'll draw her closer to you."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Mr. Head-shrinker-with-no-license-to-practice-psychiatry."

"Yeah, but I'm giving it to you, anyway, Mr. Gonna-get-his-ass-whupped-if-he's-not-careful." Then he grinned widely at me and said, "Besides, now that your future father-in-law has given his blessing, it's the right thing to do. Your Bombshell needs to know _**exactly**_ what she's getting herself into. Stop half-stepping, man. Just do it."

I blew out a sigh and nodded. "Hooah." (_Fine. You're right. I won't mess this up._)

As Tank approached the terminal, I turned in my seat and shook Stephanie's knee to wake her up. It took me several tries and she was very groggy when she finally opened her bloodshot eyes. I love my Babe, regardless of her appearance, but I knew she'd feel less self-conscious about her bruised eye if she could hide behind some shades for a while. Reaching into the glove compartment, I brandished a pair of unisex sunglasses and then handed them to her. I figured she'd appreciate them even more once she went inside to the restroom and took a good look at her reflection in the mirror.

We barely made it to our flight in time after Tank dropped us off at the curb. All the security guards know me quite well because I fly in and out of Philly so often, so I glided right through the checkpoints. Unfortunately, Stephanie got identified as a 'random female' and the guards pulled her over to the side for a more thorough search. I could hardly believe it, especially since she was traveling with _**me**_, but my Babe told me that this happens to her _**every **_time she flies. I guess I'll just have to start accepting the fact that I can't control everything. Go figure.

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A/N: There, now. I hope this chapter cleared up all the confusion from last time. I've always seen Ranger as a 'master manipulator', even in JE's original work. He knows what he's doing and he's very good at playing mind games, but he's not always right and he's definitely not perfect. Okay, maybe Ranger's physique is perfect (as written), but he even admits that his mind might not be in the best of shape. I'll try to bring this out more in future chapters. As always, I'd love to know what you think. Thanks! :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: From the reviews I've been receiving, it seems that the previous chapter really cleared up the confusion from before. I'm truly happy that so many of you liked the dialogue I wrote between Ranger and Frank Plum. Right now, I truly wish **_**I **_**was on an airplane going someplace warm and sunny. This long sort-of filler chapter is in Stephanie's POV - lucky girl! Enjoy! :D**

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"Do you think he's crazy?"

_"I think he has no life."_

_"Like us?"_

_Ranger looked over at me. "You have a life. You shop for shoes. You eat Butterscotch Krimpets. You have a hamster, half ownership of a dog, thirty percent of a cop. And you have a scary family."_

_"You think I only have thirty percent of Morelli?"_

_"I think you have as much as he can give anyone right now."_

_"How about you?" I asked. "How much can you give?"_

_Ranger kept his eyes on the road. "You ask a lot of questions."_

_"So I've been told."_

_To The Nines_

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Chapter 11: Relaxation Techniques

Ever since I was a little girl, I've always wished that I could fly. I don't know if I'd actually want to have wings or anything, but I think it would be so cool to glide through the air and soar high above the ground like an eagle. When I was a kid, I broke my arm jumping off the roof of my father's garage because I was trying to fly - just like Wonder Woman. Yep, I'd love to have an invisible, battle-ready plane, too - especially right now. The regular 747 jet in which we were traveling didn't feel very secure as we bumped and bucked through the air, trying to get past the turbulence of a powerful storm.

I turned to Ranger, who was sitting in the comfortable leather seat next to me, and asked, "Do you really think it's safe enough for us to be flying in this weather?"

"Babe." His tone of voice sounded like exasperation mixed with a slight tinge of worry - probably because I'd asked the same question ten or twelve times already.

We'd barely made it onto our plane out of the Philadelphia International Airport. If we had arrived at the gate five minutes later, the airline would have given away our first class seats. That would have been a real bummer because Tank said that lots of flights had been cancelled already. As it was, by the time we buckled ourselves into our cushy seats, all the other seats throughout the plane were filled with people who also wanted to get out of town before the bad weather delayed their travel plans any further. Right now, though, I wish we'd been late.

I get nervous enough on nice, smooth flights and this flight was anything but smooth. At that moment, I was way beyond nervous and approaching nauseated. A lot of passengers already had used up their airsickness bags and I kept mine close at hand, just in case. Ranger must have noticed the desperation in my eyes because he reached over and grabbed my hand to reassure me.

"Babe, you've got to relax," he said, smoothing his fingers over mine in a vain effort to calm my nerves. "Everything will be fine. You'll see."

"I _**can't**_ relax," I said, tightly gripping his hand in response. "I keep thinking about what will happen if the plane shakes itself apart. Won't we all get sucked out into the atmosphere? I read somewhere that the pilots and crew have emergency parachutes, but what about the rest of us? Do you think it's possible for a person to die of a heart attack in midair and not even feel the impact of hitting the ground?"

"Babe," was all he said as he brought my hand up to his lips and kissed it.

I'm sure it was just another attempt at trying to get me to relax. Ranger should have known better. Ordinarily, the touch of his lips anywhere against my skin would have sent waves of excitement and desire through me; however, at that precise moment, I felt far from amorous. I also felt far from being relaxed.

Even though the flight attendants kept trying to reassure everyone that the air turbulence was due to the major weather system entering the atmosphere, I still wasn't prepared for the shaky feel of the plane and all of the many sudden descents as we few through the different air pockets. They asked all of us passengers to stay buckled in our seats throughout the first half of our trip since it would be a very bumpy ride until we got past North Carolina.

The skies over our destination - the southeastern part of the Florida peninsula - were reportedly calm and clear, thank God. Yes, we were headed to Miami. I had guessed correctly that Ranger was going to someplace warm and sunny. It felt good to be right and I could hardly wait to get there. But first, I had to survive this dreadful flight.

"Come on, Babe, you've got to relax!" He said, squeezing my hand firmly, but with a gentle touch. "You're making yourself sick by worrying so much."

"I can't help it!" My voice sounded much higher than usual as I lamented, "My mind keeps imagining all the awful things that could happen to us up here." I knew my heart rate was quite elevated and I was very close to hyperventilating.

"Alright, then," Ranger said with determination. "I'm going to show you a different relaxation technique so that we can get your mind off of those negative thoughts."

I wasn't sure what Ranger meant to do when he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, but he definitely captured my undivided attention. Taking my trembling hand in his, he gently pressed it open and guided the palm of my hand onto his smooth, hard-muscled chest. Then he placed his much larger hand on top of mine and positioned both of them over his heart. His skin felt very warm and the constant 'thub-dub, thub-dub' of his heart began to reverberate down through my arm and into my body.

"We need to bring your heart rate down," he said calmly, in a soothing tone of voice. "I want you to breathe in rhythm with me, Steph. Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Staring wide-eyed, I nodded at Ranger and tried not to panic. I could feel that his heart was beating at a much slower and steadier pace than mine. At his prompting, I tried to mimic his calm breathing pattern of inhaling slowly for four beats and then exhaling even slower for the next eight beats. Over and over again I struggled to get my breathing in alignment with his, and finally, this relaxation technique began to work as intended.

When I no longer felt as though I would faint or throw up, I tried to remove my hand from Ranger's chest, but he held it firmly there. Then he turned and gazed deeply into my eyes and I could see that his eyes had darkened with desire. The next thing I knew, I was pressed back against the window as Ranger slid my hand further inside of and around to the back of his shirt. He had twisted his upper body to face fully in my direction and leaned over to kiss me.

All thoughts of disaster in the air followed by a horrible death fled my mind as I inhaled Ranger's wonderful, sexy scent. Screw the turbulence, I thought; I was beginning to get turned on. And, obviously, so was Ranger. My fingertips curled into the warm skin of his back and I could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to maintain control over his body. How was it possible that I could feel so relaxed and excited at the same time?

The plane dropped suddenly as we hit another air pocket and I smacked my head against the window. Fortunately, Ranger didn't collapse onto me and crush me because he had been bracing himself against the side of the window while he kissed my neck and face and lips. Unfortunately, my front teeth scraped his lower lip as our kiss was jarred apart by the turbulence and I saw him wince in pain.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed and reached out to touch his now-bleeding lower lip. So much for relaxation; I could feel myself tensing up again.

"I'm not," Ranger said as he licked off the tiny beads of blood on his lip and smiled at me. "This is the first time in over an hour that you haven't asked me about the safety of this aircraft. I'll gladly do whatever it takes, Babe, to keep your questions to a minimum and your mind occupied elsewhere."

Speaking of minds being occupied elsewhere, I glanced over his shoulder and noticed that the older, gray-haired couple across the aisle from us had been enjoying our little PDA 'show'. The grinning woman, who reminded me slightly of Grandma Mazur, gave me a tiny finger wave. The old man winked at me and then waggled his eyebrows. Clearly, Ranger and I had taken _**their**_ minds off of the turbulence as well.

"It appears that we've had an audience for a while," I whispered to Ranger.

"Let 'em watch, Babe," he purred into my ear and nuzzled my neck. "I'll bet they won't worry as much now, either - especially while they're wishing they could be just like us. Think of it as a ... public service." And then he leaned in for another round of mind-distracting kisses.

Yes, Ranger was magic. Without laying a finger on me, he had my whole body humming in anticipation of what would normally follow such actions. My mind was completely distracted from whatever was happening with the airplane. In fact, the only thing I wanted to do was to climb onto Ranger's lap and find the kind of passionate release my body now craved with him. My only consolation was that I knew Ranger had to be just as frustrated and uncomfortable as I was while we remained strapped down in our seats. Sadly, the 'Fasten Seatbelts' sign had remained illuminated the whole time so far.

Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the pilot's voice came on the intercom and announced that we were flying over South Carolina and that everything should be relatively stable for the remainder of our flight. Immediately, the atmosphere both outside of and within the interior of the plane became much calmer. We now were free to move about the cabin, if need be. The flight attendants were able to get up and serve beverages and snacks and everyone seemed to be a bit less anxious, if not happier.

Ranger stopped kissing me, but he continued to hold my hand in its place over his heart and he began to gently caress my fingers. I gazed over at him as he leaned back into his seat, pulling me upright with him. He closed his eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted in the slightest hint of a smile, but the rest of his gorgeous face appeared to be relaxed. The whole scene felt so very intimate and I _**really**_ wished we were already wherever it was that he was taking me.

"Ranger?" I asked. My husky voice was barely above a whisper.

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Where are we going?"

"Relax, Babe. You know where this flight's headed."

"Okay, yes, I know we're flying into Miami, but where exactly are we going to go _**after **_the plane lands."

"Not too far." As usual, he was being annoyingly vague.

"I was just wondering ... will we be seeing Julie while we're there?"

Ranger's now eleven-year-old daughter, Julie, lived in a modest suburb of Miami with her mother, Rachel, who was Ranger's ex-wife, her step-father Ron Martine, and her half-siblings. I hadn't seen Julie since the terrible Scrog incident, when Ranger and I worked together to rescue his little girl from an insane kidnapper. I really liked the girl and I thought about her often. It would be nice to reconnect with her under much more pleasant circumstances.

His eyes remained closed as he answered, "I hadn't planned on it, but that can be arranged. I usually visit the Martines only when I'm specifically invited."

"Oh." I chewed on my lower lip and then asked, "Well, then, are we going to visit the RangeMan offices in Miami?"

"They know I'm coming. One of my cars should be waiting there at the airport when we arrive."

"So ... I'll get to meet more of your Merry Men?"

"Babe," he said, and another slight smile played across his lips. "You might not want to get into the habit of saying that too often. One of these days, they're going to overhear you calling them 'The Merry Men' and, while most of the guys in the Trenton office probably don't mind, I'm not so sure the guys down in Miami will appreciate it."

"_**I **_think it's cute," I said defensively. "Besides, I bet they wouldn't mind."

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much are you willing to bet that my men down here in Miami will like your nickname for them?"

"Are you joking?"

"No. Not at all." Ranger opened his eyes just a little and turned toward me. "I find it hard to believe that none of my men have roped you into their constant betting pools yet. You know, Cal and Lester are notorious for making wagers on everything from football games to weather reports."

"Well, they've probably figured out by now that I don't have a lot of available cash to throw away on stupid bets. In fact, I'm pretty sure they've noticed that I usually work for RangeMan only when I really need a steady paycheck - like now."

"You might be right. At any rate, unless you're ready to put your money where your mouth is, you should be very careful about making casual comments about wagers with either of them - particularly Lester."

"Hey!" I protested, "Lester's always been very kind to me." In fact, Lester had told me more about Ranger's family than Ranger had shared so far.

"Lester is a player. He'll try to fleece you in a heartbeat and you won't even realize you've made a bet with him until the contents of your wallet are long gone. Consider yourself warned."

"Sounds like the voice of experience. How often have you lost to your cousin?"

Ranger shook his head, "I rarely bet against any of my men, and certainly not against my cousin. It's too risky."

"Afraid you'd lose too much ... or too often?"

"Neither, but I like to keep the peace among my family members. I'm actually very good at placing bets and winning, but sometimes my good fortune can seem ... suspicious. It's not nice to pay the men one day and then win it all back from them the next day. I prefer to keep my workforce happy." Then he returned to his eyes-closed and fully relaxed position.

"Mission accomplished then," I sighed. "_**I'm**_ happy."

Ranger opened one eye and slid a glance in my direction. He still held my hand over his heart and I thought I felt his heartbeat speed up just a fraction before he said, "Good to know, Babe." Then he opened his eyes and gave me look that radiated sensual heat. "When we get to our destination, I plan to make you ... happier."

Oh boy. Now my heart rate was speeding up again.

One of the flight attendants - a tall, poised brunette with exotic dark eyes stopped in the aisle next to Ranger's seat, leaned over toward him and then asked if she could get anything for either of us. Her smile was aimed only at Ranger, though, and I shot a look of pure venom in her direction. He turned toward her, requested two glasses of white wine for us, and then closed his eyes once more. Then she smiled politely at me and asked if I would like to have an icepack for my eye.

Damn! I'd forgotten what I must have looked like. Here I was, wearing casual jeans with a red fleece pullover, my hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and I was sporting a black eye. Then there was Ranger reclined in his seat next to me, looking incredibly sexy, as usual. He was wearing black slacks with a black, button-down shirt - which was currently unbuttoned and he was holding my hand inside of it. I'm sure that the flight attendant wondered what in the world such a hot man was doing with someone like me. Sometimes, I wondered that very same thing, especially after I'd rolled in garbage again or received yet another black eye.

Nevertheless, after drinking half of a glass of wine, I began to relax again. Now that I was able to use both of my hands, I reached into the seat pocket in front of me and pulled out the complimentary copy of the airline's in-flight magazine. Flipping through the pages, I found very little of interest, until I came to an article on the best beaches in Florida. The glossy photos made me whimper in anticipation. All of them seemed to show off long, beautiful stretches of sugar-white sand, which was very different from the light tan sand of the Jersey Shore. I could hardly wait to get myself onto any one of the beaches mentioned in the article.

"Do you see anything that you like in that magazine?" Ranger asked. I figured he must have sneaked a peak over my shoulder, even though his eyes remained closed. He'd barely touched his wine, but he still seemed to be way more at ease than I was. The skies might be calm now, but my nerves definitely understood that we hadn't landed yet.

"Sure," I replied, trying to sound casual. "Are we going to go to any of these beaches?"

"Yes."

I barely suppressed a squeal. "Oh, I love the ocean and the sun and the sand! I can hardly wait! Which beach is closest to the place we're staying?" So much for casual.

Ranger completely sidestepped my question and asked, "Have you ever been out to sea?"

"Do you mean, like, on a cruise ship?" Fine. I'd play his game - this time.

"No. Like on a sport fishing boat - or a yacht."

"Yes," I nodded in reply, but of course, he didn't see me. "But that was a long time ago - during the fifteen or so minutes I was married to Dickie Orr."

"Really? Tell me about it - your time on the boat, not Dickie," he murmured.

I truly envied Ranger's ability to sit there with his eyes closed, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. My nerves still were fairly calm, but now I could sense my anxiety creeping back in. I wanted to be on the ground - right now.

"Not much to tell. One of the partners at my ex's law firm had a real nice boat - I guess you'd call it a yacht, but I'm no expert," I shrugged. "During the summer, Mr. Randall - now Judge Randall - invited each of the underlings out on his boat for some fun in the sun and sometimes he'd suggest that the wives tag along. Dickie and I went aboard a couple of times. I remember that the sun really scorched my neck and back the first time." Despite the sunburn, though, it was one of the few nice memories from back in the days when I'd tried to be a good little housewife.

"Should've worn sunblock, Babe."

"It was Dickie's fault," I said, wasting a perfectly good Burg girl glare at Ranger's face since his eyes remained closed. "I got burned because the jerk neglected to put enough sunblock on my backside. In hindsight, I realize that he probably had been paying way more attention to the bimbo wife of one of his fellow lawyers than he had to my pale skin."

A hint of a smile played across Ranger's lips as he said, "Bad move on his part. I'd _**never**_ neglect your backside, Babe."

A wave of heat sent rosy color to my face while it simultaneously warmed a path southward to my doodah. I could just imagine Ranger **_not_** ignoring my backside - or my front side or any other part of my body. Now I _**really**_ wanted - no, I absolutely **_needed_** - to get him off of this darned plane and onto solid ground.

Ranger opened his eyes and looked directly at me. "Did you ever have any problems with seasickness?" he asked. His dark gaze looked more serious than it had in a while.

"Not that I can recall."

"Also good to know, Babe." Then he returned to his eyes-closed, fully-relaxed position.

"Are we going out on a boat while we're here?" I asked; eager to pry more scraps of information out of the Man of Mystery.

"Sit back and relax, Babe," Ranger smiled. "See how smooth the flight has become? You should enjoy the feeling of soaring through the air like this. You always said you wanted to fly."

"That's different!" I protested. "I want to fly like Wonder Woman, _**not**_ Amelia Earhart. Now, what I really want to know--"

"We'll have plenty of time to go over the agenda when we get to Miami."

"Wait just a minute!" I was beginning to get a little miffed at him. "Remember how I said I wanted to pay for my way on this trip? I meant it then and I mean it now. I think you need to give me at least a smidgen of an idea of where we're going and what we'll be doing while we're down here. I really need to know how much this is going to cost me."

"Relax, Babe. You're getting all worked up again."

"Seriously, Ranger! I've already figured out that this first class ticket is going to set me back a few thousand dollars, so I think I have a right to know what other high-cost activities will be involved."

"Babe."

"Don't you 'Babe' me again, Ranger," I said through clenched teeth. "I _**said**_ I'm serious!"

He opened his eyes again and stared at me. "And _**I **_said, relax! RangeMan will cover it. Consider the cost of the plane ticket to be a business expense because, yes, you will be visiting our Miami office while we're there. I want to introduce you to the crew there."

"What about the hotel?"

He sighed and said, "You don't need to worry about the cost of a hotel, because our lodgings will be covered by Suarez Enterprises, International - my grandfather's primary business. We'll probably share all of our meals and you can pay for some of them if you like, but you'll definitely have to buy your own junk food. Good luck finding any Butterscotch Krimpets in Miami, though. You'd be better off eating the locally-grown fruits, anyway. And, by the way, I'll remind you _**again**_ that I haven't kept a running tab on anything I've given to you and I'm _**not**_ going to start doing that now."

"Fine." I said stiffly. Then I settled back into my seat and continued to look at the beach photos in the magazine.

One the one hand, I liked sitting in the first class section, but my budget was much more accustomed to the cheapest seat in coach. I was almost overcome with relief at the thought of not having to reimburse Ranger for the cost of my very expensive plane ticket. I probably could afford the clothes in the suitcase, but I still wasn't comfortable with what Ranger had said about our accommodations.

On the other hand, I was starting to feel like I was going to pay the consequences for not having thought this trip all the way through before I made up my mind to accompany Ranger on this trip. I mean, what was I thinking? I'd never been to Miami. With the exception of Julie Martine and her parents, and perhaps Silvio Pareda, one of the RangeMan employees who used to be at the Trenton office, I didn't know anyone else in Miami besides Ranger.

Sure, I could check into a hotel on the beach and have my own little private vacation, but that's not what I really wanted to do. I really wanted to stay with Ranger so that we could finish what we'd started when he used his fabulous relaxation technique on me during the most turbulent part of our flight. It's just that it _**would **_be nice if he'd clue me in to what we'd be doing for the next few days. Was that too much to ask for? I didn't think so.

"Ranger?" I gently nudged him in his side.

"Mmm-hmm?" Again, he didn't open his eyes.

"So ... is Suarez your grandfather's name?"

"Yes. My Abuelo Ricardo is my mother's father. I lived with my grandparents for a few years after I fell in with the wrong crowd as a young teen. After I got out of juvie, my scandalized mother packed me up and sent me down to her parents in Coral Gables. That's where I graduated from high school before I returned to New Jersey to attend Rutgers."

"Oh. So, what does Suarez Enterpri--?"

"Primarily cars. Eleven major dealerships all along the East Coast, including New York and New Jersey. He used to have more, but he recently sold off the ones located out West, like Las Vegas and Dallas."

"What kind of cars?"

"Fleet vehicles - cop cars, utility vans. A few locations sell high-end European cars."

"Like the ones you drive?"

"Exactly."

"I see."

So _**that's**_ how he gets his fancy cars; it's a family thing. Now it all began to make sense. Ranger never seemed to worry or freak out when I exploded any of his vehicles and now I knew why. His grandfather's business probably was able to account for my many mishaps by writing them off as business losses. I had thought that only the Italians worked those kinds of deals with their kin. Guess I was wrong.

"Ranger?"

"Babe." His eyes were still closed, but his voice was starting to get that irritated edge it sometimes had and I wondered how many more questions I could dare to ask before he lost all patience with me.

"Am I going to meet your grandparents while we're in Miami?"

There was a long pause and then he said, "My grandmother passed away a few years ago - complications from diabetes. It's ... highly likely that you'll meet my grandfather while were in town. Now please, Stephanie, just sit back and _**try**_ to relax. Remember, that's what this trip is about - relaxing."

I was saddened to hear about the loss of Ranger's grandmother, but I didn't say anything else. He had used the magic word 'please' again - as well as my real name - so I knew that he was serious and that it would be wise for me to shut up now. Ranger had said 'please' to me more times in the past forty-eight hours than he had in all the time I'd known him. I was beginning to suspect that he was up to something sneaky. I had no idea what it could be, but now that my senses were on alert, I hoped I'd be ready for whatever the Man of Mystery threw my way. Meanwhile, I'd try my best to relax.

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A/N: Ahhh, deep breathing with Ranger. Don't you just wish _**you**_** could experience that particular relaxation technique? I hope to catch up in responding to your encouraging reviews very soon. Until then, I'd still love to know what you think. Thanks! :D**


	12. Chapter 12

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: Well, I hope you all haven't forgotten about this story. Real life interrupted my writing this week, so I've had to play catch-up during the long weekend (we had a Monday holiday in the U.S.). It seems that many of you enjoyed the plane ride and Ranger's method of getting Stephanie to relax during their flight. I have recently come to the realization that, sadly, I can't remember most of what I learned in my high school Spanish classes. I have noticed that a lot of authors in the Plum-verse use language translation websites to figure out how to have JE's Latino characters say something en Español. However, I haven't decided yet if that's the way I want to go, too. Since I'm already using italics to convey the translations of "Hooah!" and other military terminology, as well as the quotes I've extracted from the original books, I decided to try placing double asterisks in front of and after the quotation marks of the parts of the dialogue which are supposed to be in Spanish. For example, instead of writing "Hasta la vista, Babe," I'll write **"Later, Babe!"** Please let me know if this method is too confusing and if so, I'll try something else. This double-length chapter is in Ranger's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger cradled my face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my eyes. "The ceremony is over. Can you make it back to the car?"

_I nodded. "I'm okay now. Am I red and blotchy from crying?"_

_"Yes," Ranger said, brushing a kiss across my forehead. "I love you anyway."_

_"There's all kinds of love," I said. _

_Ranger took me by the hand and led me back to the SUV. "This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy."_

_"That's not love," I told him. "That's lust."_

_..."In this case, there's some of both."_

_"Just not the marrying type?"_

_We'd reached the car, and Ranger remoted it open. "Look at me, Babe. I'm carrying two guns and a knife. At this point in my life, I'm not exactly family material."_

_"Do you think that will change?"_

_Ranger opened the door for me. "Not any time soon."_

_No surprise there. Still, it was a teeny, tiny bit of a downer. How scary is that?_

_"And there are things you don't know about me," Ranger said._

_"What kind of things?"_

_"Things you don't want to know."_

_Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 12: Skeletons in the Closet

As a former soldier and current security consultant/businessman, I've led an interesting and often dangerous life. I'm certainly no angel. In fact, I'm resigned to the idea that I'll probably never see the gates of heaven, except in passing. As a result of my life so far, I've collected a lot of skeletons in the closet of my life - metaphorically speaking, of course. Carrying this metaphor even further, I 'built' a solid framework for my closet during my formative years in both Newark, New Jersey and Miami, Florida and I consider both places to be 'home' for me.

I suppose I started collecting my 'skeletons' as a kid, and ever since then, the bones kept piling up - both literally and figuratively. When I was a young teen, I tangled with gang members, stole cars and survived a stint in juvenile detention. When I was in high school, my grandparents forced me to clean up my act quite a bit, which only made me attractive to the young ladies. Like Morelli, I've had more than my fair share of good times with the ladies. When I became a soldier, I went off to fight in our nation's wars - both the declared ones and the more clandestine type. Now, even though I'm a successful businessman, I regularly chase down common street thugs, as well as internationally-feared bad guys.

There have been times in my life when everything goes exactly as I planned and then there are times when it seems as though all hell has broken loose. It's just as well that I don't believe in much of anything, because there are way too many skeletons in my closet now. Even if I did believe in the concepts of karmic balance and reincarnation, then I probably should be prepared to return as a junkyard dog in my next life. And on days like today, I don't have to wonder what I've done to deserve my sorry fate. Believe me, I _**know**_.

With exception of me getting to kiss Stephanie a lot, this day really sucked. First of all, the normally three-hour flight from Philadelphia to Miami had turned into a four-and-a-half-hour flight due to the rough weather conditions. Steph and I departed from Philly at 1900 hours and we landed in Miami at just after 2330 hours. Then there was a problem on the ground with the hydraulic system at the gate and it seemed like we had to wait in our seats for another hour after we landed. I was ready to shoot someone by the time the pilots finally waved goodbye to us as we passed by the cockpit on our way into the airport terminal.

Of course, I was truly grateful to have made it out on what we later learned was the last flight of the day. The storm system that moved in along the East Coast had shut down almost everything else, just like Tank had said it would do. It would've sucked worse to have been stuck in Jersey for the weekend, so I knew I shouldn't be complaining.

I also was grateful that the pilots of our aircraft were very competent and had maneuvered the aircraft through all the turbulence with as much finesse as possible. They had to fly way off-course to avoid the massive storm system and I knew they'd had a tough time of it. Things could have been much worse. I've been on flights that were so FUBAR, I truly would have preferred to parachute out of the aircraft than to stay on-board for another minute. Thankfully, the closer we got to Florida, the smoother the flight became. The landing was perfect, even though Stephanie had her eyes tightly shut throughout the entire descent.

And last, but certainly not least, I was extremely grateful to have my Babe here in Miami with me. I knew I was lucky that she actually wanted to be someplace sunny and warm right now. Still, things had not gone the way I had hoped they would and, as late as it was, this long day wasn't over yet.

Stephanie hadn't been able to eat much of anything during the flight and I usually decline the airline food, anyway, so we were very hungry when we got off of the plane. Unfortunately, it was almost midnight, so all the main food places were closed. I located the nearest vending machines, fed them some quarters and got a package of peanut butter crackers and a bag of potato chips for Steph, as well as a couple of granola bars for myself and bottles of cold water for both of us.

After we devoured our snacks, Stephanie excused herself to freshen up in the ladies room while I sat down in the nearby waiting area to check my text messages. When I pulled out my cell phone, I took a moment to listen to the popular salsa song playing throughout the airport terminal. Although I mostly listen to classical music when I'm alone, the sounds and rhythms of the tropical Latino music of my heritage truly 'speak' to my soul. Someday - hopefully very soon - I'd introduce my Babe to my way of dancing. Now _**that **_thought put a smile on my face and caused my pulse to race again.

Whenever I traveled to Miami, someone from the RangeMan office here would pre-position one of my cars at the airport and then send me a message to let me know where to find it. Of course, this being the day from hell, the content of the message I had just received from the office wasn't what I wanted to read. Apparently, one of the newly-hired guys was bringing my car to the airport, but he had been pulled over for speeding while en route and the situation with my vehicle wasn't good. So now, instead of being able to get in my Porsche and drive my Babe to our destination, I would have to wait until somebody else from RangeMan arrived to pick us up near the baggage claim area.

This was _**not **_what I wanted to have happen. However, it was already so late that I knew it would be safer for Stephanie and me to stay overnight in my private apartment atop the RangeMan office building on Biscayne Boulevard in downtown Miami than it would be if I tried to drive us anywhere else at this time of the night. I resigned myself to making the best of this bad situation and hoped that nothing else would get messed up along the way. Damn! Whoever had received the speeding ticket was going to wish he was dead when I got through with him in the gym this week.

Stephanie emerged from the ladies' room looking amazingly refreshed. She had taken her suitcase in there with her and changed out of the shirts in which she had traveled. It was too warm in Miami for her to continue wearing the fleece pullover, anyway. The new, but slightly wrinkled, blue t-shirt matched her eyes - just as I knew it would - and it looked very nice on her. In fact, my Babe looked so good, I had to take a few calming breaths to stay in control.

Additionally, Steph had smoothed her hair back into a neat ponytail and I was certain that, before she had put on her cool-looking sunglasses again, she'd reapplied her mascara, too. One of these days I was going to have to take a complete inventory of the items she kept in her monster of a purse. I'd seen the effects of my Babe performing a bit of bathroom 'magic' often enough to know that she must have some extremely useful stuff crammed in there.

"Okay, I'm ready to go," she said to me, as she strolled toward the chair in which I was sitting. My Babe looked like a world-class traveler, pulling her rolling suitcase behind her. "Just so you know - I'm starving! The peanut butter crackers and chips were great, but I thought I still had some Tastycakes left over in my suitcase. I guess I must have eaten them all already."

"Should have paced yourself, Babe," I said, "I told you it would be difficult to find Butterscotch Krimpets down here in Miami. We probably can get you some Twinkies, but you never know how long those things have been sitting on the grocer's shelf. As I've said before, you would be better off eating fresh fruit."

Of course, I knew full well that I had removed the sugary contraband from Steph's carry-on luggage during the flight when she visited the airplane's bathroom facilities. My Babe didn't know it yet, but I was going to limit her access to refined sugar and high-fructose corn syrup as much as I possibly could. I had big plans for our little get-away time and I wasn't going to allow those damn snack cakes or any other overly-sweet crap to interfere with them.

"Hmm," she said and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "Maybe we could stop at a convenience store on our way to ... to ... wait a minute! Where _**are**_ we going next? Now that we're here on solid ground, can't you tell me about our actual destination? There _**has **_to be someplace for us to stop and eat on the way there, wherever 'there' is. Come on, Ranger! I've got plenty of money now, so it'll be my treat."

I rose up from my chair and closed the gap between us. Wrapping my arms around my Babe, I kissed her lips and tasted the cherry-flavored Chapstick she'd recently applied to them. She tightened the embrace and passionately returned my kisses. Steph definitely wanted to go further, but I had absolutely no intention of making love to her on the nasty carpet of the airport terminal floor. Sighing, I forced my hands to slide down to her hips and I pulled my tongue back into my own mouth.

I reluctantly released her and said in a low, sexy voice, "Call me Carlos. _**That's**_ all the treat I need from you, Babe."

"Carlos?" She asked, and tilted her head to the side. "Why Carlos and not Ricardo?"

"Well, for one thing, Ricardo is my grandfather, Papí Súarez's name, so Carlos is the name that my family and most of my friends call me," I replied and then playfully kissed the tip of her cute little nose.

"Like ... old girlfriends and such?"

"Everyone's got skeletons in the closet, Babe," I said with a hint of warning in my tone of voice. "I always find it hard to believe that you actually married someone named Dickie."

"Yeah, well, you know _**all**_ of my dirt and, other than Rachel and Julie, I don't have a clue as to what's stacked up inside your closet, so to speak," she complained in a playful tone of voice. "And I had a few close calls concerning Joe's colorful past, so I just want to be careful. What if one of your old girlfriends comes along and starts making trouble?"

I sighed again and explained, "Babe, other than a few high school make-out sessions and prom dates, there _**aren't**_ any old girlfriends. After I divorced Rachel, I relegated women and any serious relationships with them to the least important part of my life. Remember how I once told you that I don't exactly consider myself to be family material?"

"Yes," she said warily. "Has something changed your mind about that?"

"Well, I'm still not exactly a good candidate for the happy-little-family scene, but you're here with me now, so that should tell you ... something."

Stephanie softly gasped and her beautiful blue eyes opened wide with realization. "S-so," she said and then cleared her throat. "You prefer Carlos t-to Ranger?"

I shrugged. "Actually, most of my Army buddies who served in the Ranger Regiment with me could go by the nickname of 'Ranger,' too. That's what all of us were called back then. For the most part, 'Ranger' is primarily my street name up in New Jersey."

"And elsewhere?"

"In Florida, most people call me 'Carlos' but in Boston and Atlanta, it's more of a mix because I employ so many former military men at those locations. Miami is where I went to high school and this is where I would come home when I took leave days while I was still in the Army, so you'll hear my name 'Carlos' used most often in this location. Only the men who served on active duty with me call me 'Ranger' around here. It's one of the main differences between Miami and Trenton."

"Oh," she said, looking slightly confused. "Why didn't you tell me all this before now? I would have called you by whatever name you wanted, _**Carlos**_."

"Good to know, Babe." And I kissed her sweet-tasting lips again. Even with her bumps and bruises, Steph was so gorgeous, so alluring. And to hear my name tumble so easily from her lips was a major turn-on. Seriously, I was at risk of losing the battle with my self-control again. Then her stomach growled - loudly.

Breaking off our kiss, I looked at her and said, "Babe."

"I _**told**_ you I was hungry, Carlos."

I laughed and shook my head in amusement. "Never fear - a late supper will be waiting for us when we get to my apartment at RangeMan of Miami. That's where we're going to stay tonight and it won't take us very long to get there. I can assure you that the food will be very good."

"Is there someone like Ella down here who takes care of your office and apartment when you're elsewhere?"

"Yes. Rosalinda Santos is the Miami equivalent of Ella and I know she can't wait to meet you. In fact, Rosie and Ella are the best of friends. They talk on the phone with each other all the time, so don't be surprised if certain things seem very familiar to you here."

"Santos? Is she by any chance related to Lester Santos?"

I nodded. "She's his aunt."

"Isn't she your aunt, too?"

"No. Lester's mother, Anita, is my father's sister. Rosie is Tía Anita's sister-in-law, her husband's sister, so she's not really related to me, except through marriage."

"Wow, Carlos! I've always known about the military connections among the Merry Man, but now I can see that there are a lot of family ties all over the place, too - like Sybo Diaz up in Trenton, who used to be married to one of your cousins, and Lester and now Rosie. Are there any more of your relatives I haven't met yet who are on the RangeMan payroll?"

"Plenty. I have a large family and lots of friends and associates," I answered. "Besides, I like to surround myself with people I know I can trust."

"Is that why you lost so much sleep over those break-ins?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Every family has it's 'bad apples' and I'm not so naïve as to think that I'll never have any problems within my workforce, but it was pure hell to think that a member of my 'family' - someone I trusted - would try to ruin me. One of my main goals for RangeMan has always been to build the kind of company that inspires loyalty and camaraderie the way the military does. I want my employees to enjoy working at RangeMan."

"_**I **_enjoy working at RangeMan." Steph said. "The boss is hot and I'm not related to him. The pay and benefits are great and I hardly ever end up with garbage in my hair. The guys who work with me are very nice to me - even the most scary-looking ones. And even though the searches and other paperwork assignments often get tedious, I must admit that the view is awesome - **_way_** better than at Vinnie's place."

"The view?"

"Yeah," she smiled wickedly at me and said, "Whenever I get bored, I can just peek out of my cubicle and gaze around the control room. Your Merry Men are hot, too! You have one of the finest-looking workforces anywhere, Carlos. All my girlfriends agree on that."

The view, huh? While I suppose it was true that a lot of my men rated high on the attractiveness scale, I didn't like to think my Babe had any thoughts that were _**too **_friendly toward the guys she usually worked with. Soon, there'd be only one man in Stephanie Plum's life, and once she was totally mine, I didn't plan on sharing her with anybody. A private office for her - one with a secure door - had just become a top priority for me.

"Well, there's one RangeMan employee here in Miami that I guarantee you won't drool over," I said.

"Really? Who?"

"Rosie's husband, Sheldon Markowitz - we call him Shelly. He takes care of the same kinds of things at my building here on Biscayne Boulevard that Louis Guzman handles for me at the building on Haywood Street in Trenton. Once you meet him, I think you'll gladly let Rosie have him all to herself."

"Will I meet any of these people tonight?"

"I don't think so, Babe," I said as I reached out to caress her cheek. "It's very late and we've had an extremely long, action-packed day. I warned everyone to give us some space tonight. Tomorrow, though, will be a different story. You'll be surrounded by lots of very curious RangeMan employees - including a few more people who are related to me - and they'll all want to meet you. That'll be fine, but for now, I don't want to share you with anybody else. Tonight, I only want to be surrounded by you."

Stephanie licked her lips and I thought she might be having second thoughts about dinner, but her stomach growled again. She looked sheepishly at me and asked, "How long will it take us to get to RangeMan from here?"

"Thirty minutes, forty-five tops," I said. "It's a Thursday night, so the roads should be fairly clear of traffic by now. If it was Friday, we'd have a tougher time getting there quickly because the night life in Miami really picks up around this time. Perhaps we can go out to dinner and maybe do a little dancing or whatever tomorrow night. That is, if you feel up to it."

"Carlos Mañoso, are you ... are you asking me out on a date?" She sounded amazed.

"Yes," I said. Gently grasping her hand, I lifted it to my lips and repeated, "Yes, I am." Then I turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist, touching it with the tip of my tongue and giving it a tiny suckle before I stopped. I heard my Babe gasp again and I braced myself against another wave of intense desire which threatened to consume me. It was very difficult for me to release her hand, but once again, I knew I had to be careful because I definitely was playing with fire now.

"O-okay," Steph said shakily, "Th-that sounds good to me. After all, you _**did**_ say that this little get-away is all about ... relaxation."

"Speaking of that," I said, "I really think we should pick up from where we left off during the relaxation techniques I showed you on the plane. I know lots of other ways to help you relax - only this time when I demonstrate them for you, it will be without an audience."

"Is that a promise?" She asked me and I could see that the pupils of her eyes were dilated with desire.

"Absolutely."

"Then, what are we waiting for, Carlos? Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Babe."

I always could count on Steph to brighten my day.

We walked past the baggage claim area and out into the warm Florida night air. As soon as we exited the airport terminal, a familiar-looking black SUV pulled up to the curb and came to a stop in front of us. It was well after midnight now and my mood soured just a little when I saw who was driving. It's not that I didn't like the man; on the contrary, I loved him like a brother. Rather, I was sure that he should be home at this time of night, tending to his pregnant wife.

"Hey, Ranger! Good to see you, man!" Silvio greeted me as he came around the back of the SUV and opened the rear hatch door. "And look who we have here!" He exclaimed, smiling widely at Stephanie. "It's Stephanie Plum - the Bombshell BEA - in the flesh! I know the guys up in Trenton have been complaining that we have it too easy down here in Miami, but I didn't think they'd send _**you**_ down here to spice things up a little."

Stephanie smiled at him and returned his quip with one of her own, "Yeah, well, you know how it is, Silvio. Once you've used up your quota of explosions, you've got to go on vacation to give the insurance claim adjusters time to catch up."

Silvio laughed and threw both of our suitcases in the back of the SUV. When he tossed the car keys to me, I quickly flipped them back to him. The man raised his eyebrows in surprise, but I shook my head at him, causing him not to say whatever comment had been on the tip of his tongue.

This was the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I had allowed someone else in my organization to drive me somewhere in one of my vehicles. I knew that the wisest thing to do tonight was to have Silvio stay behind the wheel, especially since I was way beyond ready to be alone with Stephanie. My goal of having this fascinating woman all to myself was almost in reach; therefore, my desire to be a patient, law-abiding driver was practically nonexistent.

I slid onto the front passenger seat after I helped Steph climb into the back seat. It was difficult not to sit with her, but I knew I had to maintain self-control until we were safely tucked away inside my apartment. It had nearly killed me to keep my hands to myself during the flight and while we were in the terminal. I didn't want to embarrass poor Silvio with our PDA and that's exactly what would've happened if I had sat in the back seat with my Babe.

Based on previous experiences, I figured that Steph would be asleep as soon as we drove onto the highway, and I was content with that. Actually, I thought it best for her to get as much rest as possible. Once we got to my apartment, my plan was to keep her awake and fully occupied for quite a while longer. And remembering my Babe's passionate responses to my kisses, I knew that she wanted the same things I wanted - ASAP.

"So, Stephanie," Silvio spoke to her while looking in the rearview mirror, "I hear that we all owe you a big debt of gratitude for helping Ranger put an end to the break-ins up in Jersey. And that million-dollar tackle you made is going to become a legend for sure. The guys down here in Miami are really looking forward to meeting you."

Steph looked surprised. "Wow, news travels fast."

"RangeMan is a close-knit family. Right, boss-man?"

"Yes, we are," I agreed. "And, apparently, we're also a family full of men who like to gossip." I silently wondered exactly what messages the men in my different offices had been sending to each other. On the one hand, I hated being talked about behind my back, even if it was in a good way. On the other hand, if Stephanie was now somewhat of a 'heroine' to my men, it just might make some parts of my latest plan a bit easier to manage.

"Speaking of gossip," Silvio continued to talk, "did you hear about my wife?"

I replied with a genuine smile, "As a matter of fact, I did. Congratulations, Silvio. I'm very happy for you - for your whole family. I know it's a dream come true."

"Thanks! And we're excited for what this might mean for the rest of you, too," Silvio said. "Doc O'Neill is going to give you a complete run-down when he's up in Jersey next week, but he asked me to give you a little preview of his latest test results. Meanwhile, Rosie and Shelly stocked the Batcave with all the good stuff that the doctor wants you to have now."

I winced at his last comment. Dammit! What was going on with my staff? First it was Ella and the unauthorized snack cakes. Then it was Tank issuing me an ultimatum to tell Steph about the skeletons in my closet. And now here was Silvio, flapping his lips about Dr. O'Neill's visit and even worse, the Batcave. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that everyone and everything was involved in a conspiracy to make my life far more difficult than it already happened to be at the moment.

"The Batcave?" Stephanie asked - as I knew she would. "So the _**real **_Batcave is down here, then?"

"Babe, forget what you just heard. It's not what you're thinking," I replied. "I'll explain everything later."

Then I gave Silvio our old Army hand signal for 'Shut the hell up or else I'm going to kill you!' and he complied right away. Stephanie was staring at me from the back seat, as though that would get me to talk about the Batcave. I chose to ignore her curiosity at that moment. There were many topics I planned to discuss with my Babe; however, I wanted to divulge these bits of information to her in my own way and on my own schedule.

"Silvio, it's good to see you and all," I casually said, "But in light of recent developments, why aren't you at home with Juanita right now? You shouldn't be pulling the late shift like this. Do I need to have a talk with Gonzo about the schedule?" It was glaringly obvious that I had just changed the subject, but I didn't care. We were going to stay away from all of the potentially explosive topics until_** I**_ was ready to discuss them.

Silvio kept smiling and said, "Oh, I'm not on shift right now. In fact, I had already signed off for the day when the call came in saying that the new guy, Danny Cruz, had messed up and got a speeding ticket on his way to deliver your not-quite-registered Porsche to the airport. After we heard that the police had impounded your car, I told Gonzo that I wanted to be the one to pick you up, so he let me take the SUV home. I had a nice dinner with my wife and then we chilled for a while before I drove out here to get you. Juanita says hi, by the way. Really, Ranger, everything's okay."

"Fine," I nodded. "I just didn't want to hear that you were working crazy hours down here, especially after everything you've been through lately."

And now I knew the name of the man who was going to be my work-out partner for the next few days. Whenever one of my employees screwed up, I'd work them very hard in the gym and push them to their physical limits with extra repetitions of strenuous exercises and running extra miles out on the track. I almost felt sorry for poor Danny Cruz, who happened to be one of Rosie's nephews, but he'd have to pay the price for bringing negative police attention to RangeMan.

"Thanks, but you needn't have worried about anything," Silvio continued to explain. "Gonzo is making sure that I get whatever time off I need, whenever I need it. In fact, he gave me tomorrow off, so after I deliver you to RangeMan, I'll be on a long weekend. The quality of life is good in Miami - you should consider staying down here more often. There's less stress, lots of clients, and best of all, no snow. What could be better?"

"Who's Gonzo?" Stephanie asked.

I turned toward the back and answered her. "Gonzo is Pedro Gonzalez; he's one of my cousins from my mother's side of the family."

"That name sounds very familiar," she said, wrinkling her brow.

"You've probably seen his name on a variety of RangeMan documents," said Silvio. "He runs the Miami office for Ranger. I'm sure you'll meet him tomorrow."

Steph raised an eyebrow at me and said, "More relatives, huh?"

I shrugged. "I told you, I come from a large family."

"And yet, as far as I can tell, I've only met Lester," Stephanie sounded a little disappointed, but I knew that she'd soon be overwhelmed by all the relatives she was about to meet. She just didn't know it yet.

"Well, Gonzo has a wife and four kids, so he probably won't flirt with you as much as Lester does," I said dryly. "And Gonzo isn't nearly as ... hot ... as some of my employees. He doesn't really do a lot of bond enforcement work, anyway; he's mostly a security system expert. He's the one who goes to all the industry conventions and brings back cool gadgets and upgrades for the technical side of RangeMan's business."

"I see," Steph leaned forward and asked, "So, is Pedro Gonzalez's mother your aunt or is his father your uncle or what?"

"Babe, are you trying to figure out my whole family tree in one night?" I asked. "Because if that's what you're doing, give it a rest. There's no way I'm going to explain all the connections right now. If I did, I'd be talking until sometime tomorrow night."

"Hey!" She protested, "_**You've **_met most of my crazy family already, Carlos, so I think it's only fair that I get to know as many of your relatives as I can."

"Why?" I asked.

Our eyes locked and held for a long moment and what I saw in my Babe's crystal-blue gaze made my usually rock-steady heart skip a beat. She wasn't just curious about my family for curiosity's sake. No, Stephanie Plum was checking out the Mañoso family tree because she sensed that there was a strong possibility that she'd be grafted onto my branch someday. And since it was such a simple thing to make my Babe happy, I smiled at her and answered the question.

"Gonzo's mother is my mother's older sister," I said. "My mother's parents originally came from Havana during World War II and they brought their six sons and two daughters with them to settle in Miami. The boys - my uncles - all ran car dealerships for Papí Súarez. The girls were expected to marry well and become active members of the Cuban expatriate high society here in south Florida, just like their mother, my Abuela Blanca."

"And did they?" Steph asked.

"My Tía Margarita, Gonzo's mother, always did as she was told and she married extremely well. When she throws a party, nobody turns down her invitation. She's very active, though, in supporting charities that provide medical supplies directly to hospitals in Cuba. RangeMan has made substantial donations to my aunt's pet charity ever since we started making good money."

"It's really nice of you to do that," she said. "And _**your**_ mother? Did she do as she was told?"

I smiled wider and said, "Babe, let's just say that you and my mother are ... kindred spirits." I watched her face as she let that comment sink in before I continued, "You know that my parents still live in Newark. You've been to their neighborhood."

"Oh, right," she said and I knew she was remembering when I took her to Newark to look for clues about my little girl's kidnapper before we discovered that the insane Edward Scrog was holding Julie captive. "So, what's the story there?" Steph finally asked.

I hesitated and then said, "How much do you know about the Cuban revolutions? Do you remember anything from your old history classes?"

"I remember learning about the Bay of Pigs Invasion and the Cuban Missile Crisis, and JFK and Fidel Castro. Is that what you mean?"

"No, not really," I answered and began to explain, "There's a whole lot more to it than that, Babe. My father's family survived the turmoil of the early 1930s and they were able to hold on to their modest furniture-making business in Baracoa, on the eastern tip of Cuba. Unfortunately, the Mañoso family lost everything to the communists later. When they fled to America, my grandfather struggled to find work in the furniture business, but his inability to speak good English hindered him for a long time. Meanwhile, my dad, Ricky Mañoso, discovered that he had a talent for fixing cars of all types. Eventually, he found a good job as a mechanic for Súarez Euro-Motorcars in New York City."

"Ah, your grandfather's company," she nodded in understanding. "Is that how your parents met?"

"Sort of," I said. "Papí Súarez sent one of his sons, my Uncle Diego, up to New York to manage the franchise there. He also sent his younger daughter, Gloria, with her brother to make sure that he had someone to take care of his apartment and to keep him out of trouble. Uncle Diego was, and still is, a bit of a ladies' man."

"Imagine that."

I ignored her smart-ass remark and said, "Anyway, Papí thought that if Gloria was living under the same roof with her wild little brother, things would be just fine for both of them and that they'd keep each other out of trouble."

"Let me guess," Steph said, "Your mother went to the car place and met your dad while he was working. Was it love at first sight?"

"Close, but no cigar for you, Babe," I replied. "My parents actually met at a community dance one night. Ricky Mañoso knew exactly who Gloria Súarez was, but he didn't tell her that he worked for her brother Diego until they'd become ... very close."

Steph's eyes were bright now with curiosity. She really was enjoying my family's history. "So," she said, "I take it that your maternal grandparents weren't happy with the relationship between Gloria and Ricky. Is Ricky short for Ricardo?"

"No. His name is Enrique."

"Just like Ricky Ricardo in 'I Love Lucy!'

Silvio couldn't hold back a loud snort of amusement mixed with slight contempt. I turned and glared at him, but he just shrugged. His family disliked that old show as much as mine did. Silvio and I knew a lot about each other because we'd spent so much time together in our former Army unit. Yes, he even knew about a large number of skeletons in my closet and we shared the guilt for more than a few of them. He wisely kept his mouth shut, though.

"Papí Súarez and Abuela Blanca were extremely unhappy after my parents eloped," I continued. "But things settled down when my sister Celia was born during the first year of their marriage and then my brother Nestor came along right after that. Eventually, Papí decided to open a car franchise in Newark and Uncle Diego put my father in charge of the whole maintenance operation there. My parents were able to buy a little house in a mostly Cuban neighborhood, settle in and have four more children within the next eight years: Maria, Elena, Teresa and me. I may be the biggest, but I'm also the youngest and none of them, especially my sisters, ever lets me forget that fact."

"Alright," Steph said, "Let me see if I have this straight: Both of your parents were born in Cuba, but they came from very different backgrounds. Still, everyone ended up in America and you have a lot of relatives who were born here in the States, too. Your parents and brothers and sisters still live in the Newark area. Your father is a mechanic and your mother was a bit of a rebel within her family. And it seems as though you were named after your mother's father, Ricardo Súarez, but you call him Papí, and he's a widower and he lives here in Miami."

"Right."

"Where did the name 'Carlos' come from?"

"My father's father, Carlos Nestor Mañoso."

"Ah, that must be where your brother got his name, too."

"You got it."

"You have a very interesting family, Carlos," Steph said and she placed her hand on my shoulder in what felt like an extremely intimate gesture. "Thank you for telling me more about them."

It seemed as though Steph was going to ask me another question, but she lifted her hand off of my shoulder, leaned back against her seat's headrest and closed her eyes. I was relieved that she didn't keep digging for more information, especially after Silvio's earlier comment about the Batcave. It was only a matter of time, though, before my Babe asked the thousands of questions I knew she now had swirling around inside her head.

I returned my attention to Silvio and asked him, "Is everything alright with Juanita and the baby?"

He nodded. "Everything's great! Doc O'Neill thinks the due date is in late June or early July. We think June is more likely because we're pretty sure we actually _**made**_ the baby the night after we renewed our marriage vows back in September." Then he winked at me and whispered in Spanish, **"Our second honeymoon was even better than the first one! I don't think Juanita and I left the bedroom all weekend. Of course, it's probably safe to say that _**you**_ two won't be going outdoors during your honeymoon, either, right?"**

Alarmed, I answered him in Spanish, **"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up a minute. What gave you the idea that Stephanie and I ... that we--"**

**"She's calling you 'Carlos' now, isn't she? And she's been asking all these questions about your family since you two got in the car."** Then Silvio looked directly at me and smiled. **"She's really hot for you, man! That much is very clear. Plus, I saw the paperwork on Gonzo's desk, so I just assumed that it was a done deal."**

**"What the--?"**

**"It's about damn time you married the Bombshell, liabilities or no. I'm sure everyone up in Trenton is saying the same thing."**

**"I'm going to have to kill Tank and Gonzo! Who else knows?"**

**"Calm down, old friend. I'm sure that nobody knows the whole story, but at least give us some credit for having the ability to figure things out for ourselves."**

**"Explain."**

Silvio shook his head, sighed and then began, **"First of all, you used to be a big-time player. You know, out and about with different ladies all the time. But it's been a long time since we've spotted you with any other women. Secondly, Stephanie is the only female, besides your daughter, that you keep tabs on. That's pretty intimate for you, _**Carlos**_. You've even allowed her to come into your personal space - and stay there. And, lastly, there's no other possible explanation for you handing Stephanie the keys to your cars over and over again after all her mishaps. I know you have the 'family car plan' and all, but ... damn, man! _**Everyone **_at RangeMan can see how much you care for Stephanie Plum."**

**"Everyone needs to mind their own business."**

**"Look, Ranger, just be honest with yourself. It's been obvious to all of us for a long time that you and your Bombshell BEA belong together. The staff down here has been curious about Stephanie Plum from the time she helped rescue Julie. Since I'm the only one who has ever worked with her, Gonzo keeps pressing me hard for more information about her. As far as I know, he and I - and probably Tank - are the only ones with any knowledge about all the arrangements we've made for you and Stephanie. I swear I haven't even told Juanita."**

"Hey! No fair!" Came a protest from the back seat. "You guys are speaking in Spanish and you _**know**_ I can't understand you when you do that. It's really not polite, Carlos, especially when I keep hearing my name. How do I know you're not saying bad things about me?"

I was doubly alarmed now. I'd been certain that Steph had drifted off to sleep. Discovering that she'd been alert enough to hear her name was disconcerting, to say the least. Discovering that Silvio and the others knew way more than they should know about my personal affairs only added to the frustrations of my day. It seemed as though my plans were in danger of, as the saying goes, 'going to hell in a hand basket' - and soon. I only hoped I could salvage the situation before any other unforeseen things happened.

Trying to keep my tone of voice calm and soothing, I answered her, "Babe, you should know that I'd never say bad things about you - in either Spanish or English."

"I'm sorry, too, Stephanie," Silvio apologized. "I was just telling Ranger about ... um ... the great time my wife and I had on our second honeymoon. As you might have heard, we just found out that she's pregnant. Please don't take offense; I ... um ... only wanted to say some things to him that probably would make you blush. Guy-talk, you know."

"Oh." She said again. "But I'm certain that I heard you mention my name a couple of times, too."

Thinking fast, I finally settled on a partial truth that _**could**_ become a reality. "You're right, Babe. We did say your name a couple of times. Silvio and I were just ... thinking that it would be nice if you met his wife, Juanita, while you and I are down here on our short trip. Not very many of my men are married and you'd probably get along quite nicely with Nita. She grew up in New York City - right, Silvio?"

"Yeah, in the Bronx, but she's lived in Miami ever since her parents moved down here to be closer to her grandparents," Silvio added, "Nita would definitely love to meet you, Stephanie. I've told her a lot of stories about you already."

"Stories?" Steph's voice sounded a bit wary. "What kind of stories?"

Silvio glanced at me and I could see the slight panic in his eyes, "Oh, you know; I told her about your car explosions and about all the crazies who seem to follow you and things like that."

"Great! She probably thinks I'm a danger to others," she said sarcastically. "Silvio, I seriously doubt that your wife would want to be anywhere near me, let alone to hang out with me."

"No, no, you're wrong," Silvio replied emphatically. "My wife was very impressed with the way you helped find Julie Martine. And ... and Nita likes to shop. You two would get along great, I swear! She can take you places where you can get great deals on all kinds of stuff. She can even translate for you so that the vendors won't be able to rip you off."

"Babe, I promise to speak English whenever you're around," I said, continuing to placate her. "But FYI, Miami is a bilingual town. You'll hear a lot of Spanish around the office down here, so you might want to start trying to remember more of that Español you studied back in high school."

"Oh boy," Stephanie said "I barely passed those classes. The only Spanish words I know for sure are taco and burrito and I don't think I learned them in school."

"We'll help you remember," Silvio said. "Or better yet, maybe Juanita can teach you a little bit while you're here."

Steph chewed on her lip for a moment and finally said, "Okay, I'll try, but I'm not making any promises."

I smiled at her and she returned my smile before she gazed out of her window again. She quietly mentioned that she really liked all of the palm trees swaying in the breeze, but then she became silent. After that, no one spoke and we all became lost in our own thoughts as we traveled east and then south into the downtown area.

It was hard to believe that earlier that day, I had explained to Frank Plum that most of my relatives speak both Spanish and English in their homes. I knew that sooner or later, Stephanie was going to have to learn how to speak Spanish. As a permanent addition to my family, it would be best if she knew a little bit of the language of my heritage. Still, the expression on her face when she'd scolded me told me that I'd better watch myself in the future or there would be trouble.

When we pulled into the parking garage of the RangeMan building on Biscayne Boulevard, I turned to ask Steph what she thought of the view from here, but she really had dozed off this time. After Silvio parked, he and I quietly got out of the SUV and went around to the back. Before I opened the rear hatch to get the luggage, Silvio placed a hand on my forearm to stop me and he whispered to me in Spanish, peering into the window of the SUV to make sure that Stephanie was still asleep inside of it.

**"Listen, Ranger, I'm sorry if my big mouth ruined any surprises for you tonight,"** he said, worry filling his eyes. **"I just assumed ... well, I just didn't realize that Stephanie didn't already know about all of your plans."**

Nodding, I replied in Spanish, **"You know what they say about assuming anything, old friend. Don't worry about it, this day has been FUBAR practically from the get-go. All hell broke loose when Tank called to tell me about the incoming storms and the changes to our flight schedule. Other things got screwed up after that. We barely made it to Philly to catch the plane, and then the turbulence in the air was so bad, I spent most of the flight just trying to keep Stephanie calm. Now that we're here in Miami, I'll just have to deal with things as best as I can. I plan to take to take her out tomorrow, probably to my cousin's club over in South Beach and then to the Batcave, but we'll see."**

Silvio smiled at me. **"You two really do make a cute couple, you know. When are you going to go public with the big news?"**

**"I don't know,"** I admitted. **"I haven't actually asked her yet."**

**"Aw, man! Now I'm _**really**_ sorry I said anything."**

**"I told you, Silvio, don't worry about it,"** I said. **"It'll work out fine."**

**"Would you like for me to have Nita on standby to take Stephanie out shopping, anyway?"**

**"Sure. That's actually a very good idea, especially since I know that Steph doesn't have the right clothes to go out dancing. It would be real nice of Juanita to help her out in that way. You'll just have to swear your wife to secrecy, understand?"**

"Hooah!" (_I got you covered, boss-man._)

Silvio opened the SUV's rear hatch and Stephanie woke up with a start. I went around to her side and helped her out of the back seat. Then I pulled her to me and held her close. Smoothing back the tendrils of her hair that had escaped the hair scrunchie, I gently kissed my Babe's sweet lips and said, "Welcome to RangeMan of Miami."

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A/N: Now that our 'dynamic duo' has arrived in Miami, let's hope that they'll get a well-deserved break from all the sad and scary stuff they left behind in Jersey. Incidentally, I was browsing through my local public library last week (yes, I'm addicted to reading as well as writing) and I came across a huge volume of everything about Batman, the DC Comics' Dark Knight. I'm sure that both my husband and my teen-aged son could have filled me in on most of the trivia I found, but now I know more than I ever did before about Batman and his various sidekicks, gadgets and lairs. Armed with all this new information, I plan to slip some of these tidbits of knowledge into my story lines from time to time. Again, sorry it took me so long to update, but I hope the next chapter will finish writing itself very soon. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D


	13. Chapter 13

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: Once again, my real life has been relentlessly busy, so I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. I simply haven't had much free time to write this week, so I hope another long chapter will make up for my tardiness. Many of you seemed to like my method of placing double asterisks around the phrases which are meant to be spoken in Spanish. So, although there's no Spanish dialogue in this chapter, I do plan to continue using the asterisks throughout the story. BTW, I do not plan for this story's rating to venture higher than a 'T' and I checked the publishing guidance to ensure that I've stayed within the prescribed parameters. Truthfully, I think my writing is quite a bit tamer than JE's original stuff, but I hope you'll like my version of fluffy fluffiness anyway. Now we're back to Stephanie's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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I'd spent a night with Ranger a while ago, and I knew what happened when he was encouraged. Ranger knew how to make a woman want him. Ranger was magic.

_"Let's take a look at my life," I said to Ranger. "I keep rolling in garbage."_

_"Mind-boggling," Ranger said. _

_"And let's take a look at your life. You have a deep dark secret."_

_"Let it go," Ranger said._

_"Are you sick?"_

_"No, I'm not sick. Not physically, anyway. I'm not so sure sometimes about the mental, emotional, and sexual."_

_Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 13: Control Freak, Part 2

I'm beginning to think that Ranger is a control freak. I understand that his black-on-black wardrobe is primarily for his convenience and that his fleet of black vehicles allows for stealthy surveillance operations, but when we arrived at RangeMan of Miami, I was struck by the similarities between this building and the one back in Trenton. It even has seven floors, too, but the parking garage is on the street level instead of below the ground.

The main difference is that the decor here is decidedly tropical. Light-colored marble tile is everywhere - down all the hallways, half-way up the walls, and even in the elevator. The walls above the tile wainscoting are painted in a flowing design of assorted pastel ribbons of color against a light beige background. It's as though the entire building was shouting, "Welcome to Florida!" It certainly was beautiful, but it just didn't seem to fit the Ranger - or RangeMan - I knew.

Silvio got off the elevator at the fifth floor so that he could return the SUV's keys to the guys who were on duty in the control room. We thanked him for picking us up at the airport and for giving us a ride to RangeMan. He just smiled and waved at us as he disappeared down the hallway. Then Ranger pressed a button on his key fob to usher us up to the seventh floor and the elevator resumed its slow ascent.

The only exception to the building's colorful palette seemed to be the upper walls of the elevator, which were covered with tiles of mirrored glass. This was a problem because, as soon as Silvio left us and I took a closer look at my reflection, I wanted to hide. Even with my sunglasses on, it was easy to see the discoloration of the bruise under my eye. And despite my earlier success with taming my ponytail, my hair now looked liked I'd stuck my finger into an electrical socket.

"Omigod! Carlos, why didn't you tell me I looked so hideous?" I exclaimed and looked around frantically until I found the nearly-invisible security camera. "Is this why we didn't stop and talk to the guys on shift in the control room? My hair is an absolute mess! And my face--!"

"Babe, I'm _**off-line**_," he replied, cutting off my words, "and so are you. This means that, officially, unless someone dies or becomes incapacitated, no one is supposed to call upon us for anything. I'm certain that whoever is in charge tonight will do what he needs to do without any further guidance from me."

"Okay," I said. I fidgeted a bit and needlessly adjusted my sunglasses.

"And stop worrying about your appearance. You look fine to me, Babe, and that's all that matters," he said. "Besides, I already told you that we'll meet everybody tomorrow. The men on shift right now will have to wait. I, however, have waited long enough."

Then he moved so fast I didn't even have time to react. Before I knew it, Ranger had pinned me against the corner of the elevator and was kissing me like there was no tomorrow. His body effectively hid me from the camera's view while his lips made me forget where I was. His kisses left a trail of tingling sensations from my mouth, down one side of my neck and into my cleavage, then back up the other side until he reclaimed my mouth. My insides turned to mush and I began to wonder if supper could wait. Unfortunately, my stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and remind me of its priority status.

"Sorry!" I said as Ranger's deep chuckle sent another thrilling sensation down my spine. "I swear; I'll eat as fast as I can."

"I _**said**_ don't worry," he nuzzled my neck and purred into my ear, each phrase punctuated by a soft, feather-light kiss. "You can take all the time you need. We've got the rest of this night. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next two days after that. We're taking a break. Remember?"

"But you just said that you had waited long enou--"

His mouth covered mine and silenced my words once again. I barely noticed that the elevator had stopped and the fact that we had reached the seventh floor only registered inside my brain when Ranger released me from the corner and led me out through the open elevator doors. Within seconds, he had opened the door to his apartment and an overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over me. My legs came to a screeching halt as soon as I got a good look at my surroundings and Ranger let go of my hand.

"So, is this the ...Batcave?" I asked, half-excited and half-afraid at the same time.

He chuckled and replied, "No, Babe, this is just another apartment I keep for my personal use when I'm down here. Trust me; you'll know the Batcave when you see it."

"Then, are you sure we're in Miami?" I asked, trying not to feel too freaked out. "Because this place looks _**exactly**_ like your apartment in Trenton." Unlike the rest of the building, there were no tropical colors on this level; it was all neutral earth tones and sleek furniture, just like back at Haywood.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward and he said, "Yeah, Steph, we're definitely in Miami now. If you take a good look around, you'll see that there are plenty of differences between this apartment and the one in New Jersey."

"Such as?" I prompted.

Ranger never rolls his eyes, but the expression he gave me looked like he was thinking about it. "Come, I'll show you." Again, he gently took my hand in his and led me down the short hallway into his large bedroom.

He had picked up both of our suitcases with his other hand and now he placed them on the floor just inside the bedroom door. I could see right away that the room's layout was indeed a _**little**_ bit different. The closet and bathroom were on the opposite side of the room. Other than that, the king-sized bed looked exactly the same as the one back in Trenton. The sheets and pillows on the bed, the towels and toiletries in the bathroom, and the black clothes hanging in the large walk-in closet all looked the same to me.

"Okay ... so the bedroom is flipped," I stated the obvious, "and everything is oriented to the opposite side. I'll have to remember not to crash into the solid wall if I have to get up in the middle of the night. What about the rest of the apartment? I'm really sorry, but it all looks very much the same to me."

A brief look of annoyance flashed across Ranger's face, but it quickly disappeared and his slight smile took its place. Then he placed his hand at the small of my back and guided me back down the hallway toward the spacious living room. We stood there side-by-side for a moment and he obviously was waiting for me to say something, but I guess I was just too tired and hungry to figure out what it was that I was supposed to notice.

"Well?" He finally said.

"Well, what?"

"It's bigger," he said, his voice more emphatic than I'd heard it in a long time. Guess I wasn't the only tired person in the room. "The floor plan might be almost the same, but all the rooms have more square footage. See? Even the TV screen is larger here."

"Hmm." I didn't know what else to say.

Sure, there might be more space in this apartment, but the rooms still looked basically the same as the ones back in Jersey, right down to the pattern on the area rug in the living room. I'm sure that the familiarity was comforting to Ranger, who spent a lot of time 'in the wind' and probably appreciated not having to think about where he was when he stayed at any of his apartments. For me, the effect of all the sameness was slightly disconcerting.

There was, however, one major difference that I noticed right away. Whereas the dining room table in the Jersey apartment was small and square; a gorgeous oval mahogany table with six matching, upholstered chairs graced the dining room here. It looked decidedly out of place in this bastion of high-tech, modern-day masculinity. I'm sure I drooled when I saw the table's intricately-carved pedestals and the gleaming surface of the elegant piece of furniture. Of course, the drool might also have come because of the delicious aroma wafting out of the kitchen, which was just beyond the dining room.

Ranger noticed my intense interest in the table and walked up behind me, encircling me within his arms. Then he murmured into my ear, "When my father's father wasn't able to find a paying job as a furniture-maker, he decided to keep doing what he loved to do as a hobby, instead. He made many pieces over the years and he gave them to me and all of his other grandchildren as gifts before he passed away."

"I'm sorry to hear of your loss, Carlos," I said. "Does your grandmother live with your parents now?" I was thinking of my own Grandma Mazur as I asked him this.

"Oh, no!" Ranger shook his head. "My Grandma Rosa is very stubborn. After all these years, she still refuses to speak English and she refuses to leave her home. Luckily, my Uncle Teddy lives right next door and is able to check on her every day."

"Teddy? That name doesn't sound very Spanish." I commented.

"It's short for Teodoro. Theodore."

"Oh," I said and returned my attention to the hand-crafted table, "I've never seen anything so beautiful!" I exclaimed as I admired its smooth, glassy surface. "Now _**this **_is definitely different from your dining room table in Trenton."

I felt Ranger's lips move against my ear as he smiled and said, "Glad you finally noticed, Babe."

"I also noticed that delicious aroma. Can we please eat now?"

"Of course. Forgive me. I shouldn't have kept you waiting this long."

Ranger led me into the spacious kitchen. He picked up one of the earthenware bowls that was sitting on the granite counter-top. Then he ladled what appeared to be some sort of beef and tomato stew out of a crock-pot and into the bowl for me. There was a loaf of freshly-baked bread sitting on a cutting board next to the crock-pot and a plate of grilled vegetables, as well. Everything smelled so good!

I sliced off two pieces of the still-warm bread and followed Ranger back into the dining room where he had taken my bowl. He held out a chair and gestured for me to sit at the place where he had set down the bowl of steaming hot stew. When he returned from going into the kitchen again, I noticed that he had two beers and the plate of veggies in his hands.

"Aren't you going to have any of the stew?" I asked him as he plunked down one of the beers in front of me.

"No, the vegetables and bread are fine for now," he replied, placing his plate on the table and taking the seat directly across from me. "It's so late and I'm not really hungry - for food, that is. But I want you go right ahead and enjoy Rosie's ropa vieja. It's a favorite Cuban dish around here.

"Rope of _**what**_?" I asked, not sure I heard him correctly.

Ranger grinned and repeated slowly, "Ro-pa vee-eh-hah. In Spanish, it literally means 'old clothes.' But don't worry, Babe. I'm sure that Rosie didn't throw any of my old socks into the crock-pot. It's simply shredded beef and tomatoes in a spicy red sauce. The pieces of beef have been cooked until they fall apart - just like old clothes. Go ahead and taste it."

My first spoonful of the stew tasted fantastic. I had always enjoyed eating anything that Ella cooked and I was now certain that Rosie's food would be just tasty. It was only after my third or fourth bite that the spices in the stew 'bit' me back and I had to reach for my beer. Of course, Ranger had been watching me and his grin became even wider than before.

"I hope it's not too spicy for you," he said. "You know, a lot of things around here probably will be ... _**hotter**_ than what you've been accustomed to back home." And he gazed at me in a way that definitely melted my insides.

Ranger was being extremely patient with me, but then I realized that he was teasing me with the way he was eating his slice of bread. He'd tear off a piece of the crust and then slowly ease it into his mouth, savoring every bite as though it was the last morsel of food that would ever pass through his lips. While mesmerized by Ranger's sensual act of consuming a piece of bread, I think I might have drooled again.

I was surprised when Ranger suddenly pushed back from the table and stood up. The steamy look in his eyes told me that I should finish my meal quickly. I kept eating, but my eyes followed his movements as he carried his dishes into the kitchen. He was out of sight, but I could hear the sounds of him rinsing the plates and utensils and placing them inside of the dishwasher. When Ranger returned to the dining room, he walked around to my side of the table and placed his hands on the back of my chair. Leaning forward, he spoke seductively into my ear.

"I'm going to take a shower now. Feel free to ... join me when you're done here." Then he kissed the sensitive place behind my ear and disappeared down the hallway toward the bedroom.

I think I finished the rest of my supper in less than five minutes; hoping and praying that I wasn't giving myself a bad case of indigestion along the way. Quickly searching through the very orderly kitchen cabinets, I found a suitable storage container, poured in the remaining stew from the crock-pot and placed it in the refrigerator. For some strange reason, it just didn't feel right to leave dirty dishes sitting in Ranger's kitchen sink, so I rinsed the dishes I had used and put them into the dishwasher, too. Then I headed straight for the bedroom.

After I stripped off my clothes, I stood in Ranger's closet, looking at my full-body reflection in the mirror there. What I saw wasn't a very pretty sight. My bruised eye was slightly less purple than it had been earlier in the day, but I knew it would take a few more days for it to heal completely. A nice, thick layer of concealer under a dusting of foundation powder would make me presentable in the morning. However, there was nothing I could do about the way my eye would look in the shower now.

Another problem was that most of the right side of my body was one gigantic, purplish-green bruise from the area under my armpit and down the side of my ribcage to the top of my hip. The "million-dollar tackle," as Silvio had called it, definitely had left its mark upon me. I seriously doubted that Ranger would see my wreck of body as being sexy tonight.

No, I wasn't stalling, I told myself, as I began to pace back and forth. I just needed to calm down a little before joining Ranger in the shower, so I decided to take a quick mental inventory. Had I shaved my legs recently? Check. I did that last night at the safe house - just in case. Were there any breath mints in my purse? Check. I popped one into my mouth as proof. How about my birth control pills? My schedule was a little off, but everything should be okay if I took my regular dose now, right? Unfortunately, the little buggers didn't seem to be in my purse or my suitcase. Uh oh. Where were they?

I took a moment to think back to the last time I had seen my pill case and ... oh, crap! I suddenly realized that my pills were safely tucked inside of my cosmetics bag which was sitting on shelf in the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom at my parents' house. Of course, I'd had every intention of returning there after my afternoon of sulking at the beach. But then we captured the fugitive Cantrell and turned him over to the feds and Ranger took me directly to the safe house. The suitcase Ella had packed for me was filled with everything I could possibly need - except my contraceptive pills. I began to pace again.

The sound of the shower beckoned to me and I desperately wanted to be in there with Ranger already. Like he said, he'd waited long enough - and, really, so had I. Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I tried to think rationally. I knew I was getting all worked up over something that probably wasn't a true crisis. Okay, so I'd be off the Pill for a few days. No big deal, right? Knowing Ranger, he probably had plenty of condoms with him, anyway.

"Rang--, uh, Carlos?" I said as I cautiously knocked on the bathroom door. "There's a ... um ... I have a slight problem."

There was a pause, and then I heard the water cut off before he replied, "What kind of a problem?"

"Well, you see ... I ... I left something behind in New Jersey," I said. "It's fairly important, but ... um ... maybe you can help."

There was another, longer pause and then Ranger emerged from the bathroom with a towel draped around his neck - and nothing else. The scent of his amazing shower gel wafted into the bedroom from the steam which billowed out behind him and I know I licked my lips. His dark hair was still slightly damp, as was most of the rest of his phenomenal body, and it was obvious that he'd been thinking about me. At least, I hoped it was me that he was thinking about while he showered.

"Talk to me, Babe," he said as he rubbed the towel over his hair to dry it. "What did you leave behind that's suddenly so important?"

I chewed on my lip before answering in a rush of words, "Mybirthcontrolpills. But ... but I figure you probably have lots of ... um, protection here, right?"

At first, Ranger didn't say anything. He just stared at me and it looked as though he was thinking about smiling, but then he frowned at me, instead. He reached out and grabbed my right hand, lifting it up so that he could take a closer look at my bruises. After he finished examining me with his eyes, his gaze locked with mine.

"Stephanie," he said, "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt this badly?"

Shrugging, I pulled away from his grasp and crossed my arms over my naked chest - as though I could hide myself from him. "It looks much worse than it feels. Besides, I've been popping Advil pretty regularly since yesterday, so the bruises really don't hurt unless I think about them, which I'm trying very hard not to do."

Ranger stood there breathing for a moment and I could tell that he was trying to get a grip on his emotions. Sadly, he no longer seemed as excited as he'd been when he came out of the shower. And something about Ranger's stance suddenly reminded me of Morelli's posture whenever my actions had pushed him to the edge of sanity. My breath caught in my throat and I froze in place, lost in my thoughts.

Had my time with Morelli ended just so that I now could annoy Ranger full-time until he gave up on me, too? What if _**I**_ was the problem in all my relationships with men? Would I always have this effect on any man who dared to venture into my life? If I messed up _**this**_ relationship, I'd be totally screwed - and not in the way I wanted to be. The stakes were even higher now because I could lose Ranger as a lover and a friend and maybe even as an employer.

"Earth to Babe," I finally heard Ranger say to me. "What's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's not pretty," I protested and, feeling worse by the second, I blurted out, "I'm sorry, Carlos!" Then I burst into tears.

Ranger immediately closed the gap between us and wrapped me in his arms. "Shh, shh ... Babe, it's okay, everything's gonna be alright," he kept saying over and over to me, trying to comfort me.

"B-but you're m-mad at me for for-forgetting my pills and for not t-telling you about my injuries, aren't y-you?" I blubbered like an idiot and snuffled into his bare chest. I felt him sigh in resignation and he hugged me tighter.

"I'm not mad at you, Steph," Ranger murmured into my hair. "I'm mad at the situation. You did what I asked of you and you made a spectacular tackle. I wish we'd had it on video so you could see for yourself. Cantrell never saw you coming. As for the pills, well, let's just say the pills are most likely inconsequential."

"But I'm ... I'm such a mess!" I wailed.

"Stephanie, please stop crying," He released me from his embrace, wiped away my tears and gently kissed my lips. "Those bruises up and down your body are not your fault. If anything, they're _**my**_ fault. Your bounty-hunting skills have improved greatly since you first came to me and you're better at this than you think you are, but I haven't trained you well enough to not get injured while you carry out your missions. And _**that's**_ what bothers me. You need to have better training and I'm going to make sure that you get it, like it or not." Then before I could say another word, he gave me a tiny push in the direction of the bathroom. "Go ahead. Take a solo shower this time. You'll feel better afterward and then we'll have a little talk when you come out. I promise, you can shower with me next time, okay?"

I turned and asked over my shoulder, "But what about--?"

He cut me off by saying, "Babe, we'll figure out what to do about ... everything else after you get cleaned up. Now go!" And he nodded toward the bathroom door.

I straightened up, returned his nod and slipped into the bathroom to take my shower - by myself. Blowing out a sigh, I turned on the water and lathered up with Ranger's super sexy shower gel. The shower lasted longer than I originally had intended because I kept getting distracted by my jumbled thoughts. The bottom line was that I didn't want to get my hopes up too high. What if the Man of Mystery had changed his mind about being with me? The way my luck was going, it wouldn't be a surprise if he decided that we should sleep in separate places so that he wouldn't hurt me inadvertently by touching my bruises.

When I came out of the bathroom, Ranger was stretched out on the bed, lying there with one leg crossed over the other and his hands clasped behind his head. His cell phone was sitting in the middle of his chest and I wondered who he'd been on the phone with so late at night. I also wondered about the black silk boxers he was wearing. Did he bring them with him or did he keep a different pair in his dresser drawer down here? I was just about to ask Ranger this question directly when he glanced over at me and patted the space beside him, indicating that he wanted me to come over and sit next to him.

"I've been checking my messages," he explained, catching on to the fact that I had been staring at his cell phone, among other things, of course.

"I thought you said we were off-line," I said as I tightened the sash around the bathrobe I'd borrowed from the back of the bathroom door - the robe which was an exact duplicate of the one in Jersey - and crossed over to the bed.

He smiled and replied, "Off-line - yes. In the wind or dropped off the face of the earth - no."

"Okay," I said hesitantly as I sat down next to him, "Who's sending you messages so late at night?"

"Tank. And he was just reminding me to ... to be a man of my word."

"What?" I was dumbfounded. "Why would Tank have any reason to doubt you?"

Ranger chuckled, but there wasn't much mirth in the sound of it, "He knows me all too well. And he knows that I tend to wait for the right moment to do things."

"What's wrong with that? You're always telling _**me**_ to be more patient."

"Sometimes ... the right moment passes me by."

"That's ridiculous! I've never known you to miss your intended target, Carlos. Sooner or later, you always get your man."

"True, but I haven't had much luck in getting my woman."

I gazed down into his dark eyes and said, "Maybe your luck's about to change."

It felt as though a full minute passed by before Ranger placed his phone onto the nightstand and turned off the bedside lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, except for a tiny bit of light which slanted in from the hallway and illuminated our faces. Then he pulled himself upright next to me and reached over to tuck a few loose strands of my damp hair behind my ear.

"First, we need to talk," he said.

"About what?" I asked, trying to figure out if this was a good thing or not.

"Us."

"Oh. Yeah, that's probably a good idea," I said, even though talking wasn't really what I wanted to do now that I was seated next to the Cuban sex god.

Ranger cleared his throat and said, "Stephanie, I owe you an apology. Actually, I owe you several apologies."

My mouth dropped open before I was able to ask, "What for?"

"Steph, I haven't been completely open with you. Although I've never lied to you, I've been quiet about things you have a right to know. But I need to tell you about these things now, especially because I want you to become a more permanent part of my life."

"Carlos, what are you talking about?" I tried to ease away from him, but he had curled his arm around my waist which prevented me from moving very far.

"Remember when I told you that I'd once been held captive by Colombian rebels?"

"Yes," I replied hesistantly. "That was when we were providing security for that singer, Brenda, right?"

"Right."

"You said that your captors tortured you for three days."

"You do remember. Well, a lot of bad things happened on that mission and I ... I still bear the scars from that time."

I instinctively turned to look at his solid torso and then I ran my fingers across the well-muscled surface, which didn't seem to have any noticeable marks on it anywhere. "I don't see any scars here, Carlos. There's no damage. In fact, you're perfect."

"Don't say that," he said bitterly and he firmly placed my wandering hands back onto my lap. "It's not even slightly true. Not all scars are visible, Babe. And, trust me, I'm very damaged."

Then he proceeded to tell me a horrific tale of a failed rescue mission, three terrible days of psychological and physical torture, and finally a heroic and timely rescue by Tank and some other men I either knew or was about to meet very soon. I was relieved to hear that Tank had prevented Ranger from being raped, but the experiments the insane Colombian drug lord **_had_** conducted on him were bad enough to give Ranger nightmares from which he still suffered. Now I understood the importance of Silvio's wife conceiving a baby.

"Oh, Carlos, I'm so very sorry for your pain," I said, as tears streamed silently down my face. "I wish I'd known about this before ... before ..."

"Before you chose to be with Morelli? No, Babe. The last thing I ever want from you is pity. I just want you to understand that I have some fairly serious problems, but I'm working on them. That's why I eat the way I do. Well, and I have to watch my sugar intake, anyway, because diabetes runs in my family."

"Your grandmother." I whispered, finally figuring out an important connection.

"Yes," he confirmed my statement and wiped away my tears with his warm hands. "And I apologize for throwing away the rest of your Butterscotch Krimpets, too."

"You _**what**_?" I almost choked.

"I tossed your snack cakes down the airplane garbage chute to get rid of them."

"Wh-when did you do that?" How could he do such a thing?

"While you were using the airplane's restroom. I'm sorry, Babe, but I had my reasons." Ranger sounded contrite, but his mouth still had too much of an upward tilt for my liking.

"Which were what?" I demanded, no longer feeling as sorry for him as I had a moment before then. "You know how I get when I don't have my sugar fix!"

"Exactly." And a smoldering smile slowly spread across his gorgeous face as recognition widened my eyes.

"Oh, that's low, even for you, Ranger!" I could see that my use of his street name stung a bit. Good! He deserved to squirm a little.

He sighed and said, "As long as you're mad, I may as well apologize for the rest of it."

"The rest of what?" I asked, now very wary of whatever I was about to hear next.

"I'm sorry, Babe, but you were right," he said and then he paused and sighed again before continuing, "I poached from Morelli for a very long time. Of course, I had my reasons for that, too."

"Such as?"

"Such as believing that you belong with me. It always got on my nerves that he made his move on you before I made mine."

Now I was having difficulty breathing. "You were ... going to ... make a move on me? When?"

"It was after you solved the case concerning your missing uncle."

"Uncle Fred?" I thought back to that crazy time and realized that it also was the first time I had worked directly for Ranger - and with several of his men - on a variety of security-related jobs. And it was the first time that one of Ranger's cars was destroyed after he had lent it to me. The Merry Men still laughed about the way a garbage truck exploded and rolled over onto Ranger's Porsche, flattening it like a pancake.

"Yes, him," Ranger said and he began to comb his fingers through my hair and rub the base of my neck. "I was on my way up to your apartment one night when I spotted Morelli's car in the parking lot. Five minutes earlier, and I would have beaten him to your door. You see, I waited too long for the right moment with you. As it was, I flew up the stairs and hit the landing on your floor in time to hear him say to you, and I quote, 'Nice dress. Take it off.' Soon after that, you two became a couple - more or less. After a while, I convinced myself that Morelli would be better for you in many ways, not the least of which was that he could give you children someday, but I ... well ... there aren't any guarantees with me. I just wanted you to be happy and safe, and it often seemed that you were content with him. But then ... you agreed to the DeChooch deal."

I was speechless. It was mind-boggling to think that, even though I had cheated and pulled Joe's name out of jar, Ranger had been poised to start up something with me long ago on that same fateful night when Morelli came over. It also was nearly impossible to think straight while Ranger's fingers worked their magic on my scalp and neck. Still, a sharp pang of an emotion I refused to name kept me from being swept away by the fabulous sensations and I forced myself to focus on my reply.

"So ... is that when you started keeping tabs on me?" And I gently disentangled his fingers from my hair so that I could think clearly again.

"No, Stephanie, I've been watching you almost from the moment you came into my life. In fact, as you well know, I watch you all the time. Nowadays, my men monitor your location as best as they can and your status is part of their morning report to me. I've never asked for your permission to do this, but I feel better knowing where you are and whether or not you're in any immediate danger."

"Carlos,_** that's**_ not a secret," I said. "If I was anyone else, you'd be considered a stalker. But I've had enough real stalkers and other crazies come after me to warrant your concern. I really do understand that your constant surveillance is only because you honestly care about my safety. I've actually come to appreciate it - most of the time."

"Good to know, Babe, because I don't have any plans to stop what I've been doing for so long."

"Fine," I said, feeling a bit feisty now. "But I reserve the right to have a day off once in a while. That's when you'll just have to trust me."

"Well, if you'll accept the training I plan on giving you - and put it into practice - that shouldn't be an issue," he said. "I want you to be my partner, Steph. I _**need**_ you as my partner."

"Your partner? Like at RangeMan?" My heart rate began to speed up again.

"Like ... everywhere," he said. "I already told you my thoughts about us working together to solve more interesting cases like Cantrell's, but the truth is that I like it when you're working at RangeMan, even if I have to share you part-time with Vinnie to catch his skips, too. As long as I know you're relatively safe, I can relax. I also like it when we sleep in the same bed, Babe. I look forward to waking up with you all tangled around me. Actually, I'd like for all of my days to begin that way."

I dug my fingernails into the edge of the bed to steady myself and said, "Yes, well, I totally agree about our working relationship, but ... but the rest of it is pretty much a moot point because you've always said that you don't do relationships."

"What if I've changed my mind about that?"

"Have you?" I tried to sound bold, but the little hairs on the back of my neck were standing straight out.

"Babe," he replied in a soft voice, "You're here with me now, aren't you?"

"W-why now?" Then I clasped my hands together to keep the trembling from being too noticeable, but it wasn't working very well.

Ranger took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he spoke again. "During the past week, when you stayed at my place and we were working together so closely, I realized a few things."

"Things? What kinds of things?" I tried to sound casual, but I feared that my voice was trembling as much as my hands were.

"You brighten my day, Babe. I know I once told you that, in our line of business, we spend a lot of time wading around in the dung heaps of the world. Whenever you're around me, life doesn't seem so terrible. Even my men seem happier when you work in the office with them." Then he reached up to run his finger along the inside edge of the robe's shawl collar and I felt my eyes glaze over when his warm fingers brushed against my skin underneath the robe.

"Um ... is there anything ... else on your mind?"

He chuckled and took my hand, placing it over his heart just the way he had done during our plane ride. "You, Steph, make my heart race," he said as he slid his hand inside the robe and placed his hand over my heart. "And I seem to have the same effect on your heart."

Then Ranger flipped me over on to my back and positioned himself over me. I was vaguely aware of his hands deftly sliding the robe off my shoulders, but I didn't mind. Although he was careful not to put any of his body weight on me, I could feel his body heat radiating down into me, keeping me warm.

Sadly, my brain wasn't working the way it should and I said, "This is all well and good, Ricardo Carlos 'Ranger' Manoso, but haven't you always said that you love me in your own way? If I stay with you, the best I can hope for is mind-blowing sex and a lifetime's supply of condoms, which, at this point, actually sounds pretty wonderful. However, I shouldn't hold my breath waiting for something more permanent - like a ring - right?"

"Wrong."

Alarm bells went off in my head. "What? But you said--"

"I love you, Stephanie Michelle 'Bombshell' Plum. And I _**do**_ have a ring set aside for you. It's just not here in this apartment or else I'd have slipped it onto your finger by now." Then he kissed me, deeply and passionately.

"Y-you already have a ... a ring ... for me?" I said when I was able to form a coherent sentence. "B-but, Carlos, now I really don't understand. What's going on?"

"Babe," Ranger said as he began kissing a trail down my neck and then stopped to gaze into my eyes. "This has been a difficult day - for both of us - and we have a lot of other things to talk about before ... before it's the right moment for me to formally propose to you. It's already tomorrow and I plan to let you sleep in as long as you like, but right now, I just want to make love to you without causing you any more pain. Do you think we can do that, Babe?" And he kissed my open mouth again.

My startled brain refused to work properly and I stammered through his kisses, "I ... yes ... but, wait! What about ... what about ...?"

But Ranger's kisses were magic and they made me forget practically everything except my own name. I'd been taking a hiatus from men in general and from Joe in particular before he broke up with me, so it had been quite a while since I had felt this good. Something tugged and nagged at the fringes of my consciousness, but I knew deep down inside that Ranger - _**Carlos**_ - would never do anything intentionally to hurt me. Finally, I decided to let go of all my worries and I gave in to the tremendous wave of passion which threatened to consume me.

The last words I remembered hearing before Carlos swept me over the edge into complete and utter bliss were, "Don't worry, Babe. Everything's under control now. Remember ... I shoot blanks."

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**A/N: Congratulations to Angela Mueller! She sent in the 200th review to this story!! As you've probably noticed, I keep flipping back and forth between the names 'Ranger' and 'Carlos' and I hope it's not too weird for you. I keep thinking of the Man of Mystery as being Ranger most of the time, but I believe that he'd want Stephanie to call him Carlos, at least when they're being intimate. It's like going to your future husband's hometown to meet his family and friends and then finding out that they all call him 'Buddy' while you've known him as 'Dave' the whole time you were dating. Alas, I haven't figured out a complete solution, so for now, I'll just keep doing what I've been doing unless you really find it confusing to read. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D**


	14. Chapter 14

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm definitely not making any money here. **

**A/N: My goodness! The number of reviewers who want Ranger to **_**not**_** be 'shooting blanks' is astounding to me. I didn't realize how many readers seem to want Miss Plum to be preggers already. I truly haven't made up my mind yet, but my original story outline calls for several more chapters before any such decision is even possible. Sorry dearies, you'll just have to wait and see. This super-long chapter is in Ranger's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger and I have three things in common. We're the same age. We're both single. And we both were previously married for about ten seconds. That's where the common ground ends. I'm an open book with lots of blank pages. His book is filled with life experience but written in disappearing ink.

_Finger Lickin' Fifteen_

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Chapter 14: Addicts

Early morning is my favorite time of the day. When I'm here in Miami, I usually go for a six or seven mile run along the beach and watch as the sun comes up over the ocean's horizon. There's a specific moment when the sun's rays reflect off the surface of the water at a certain angle and it appears that a large swath of the ocean is on fire. It's one of the most beautiful sights in all of nature.

This morning, though, I had done a rare thing and now I was watching a very different, but also astonishingly beautiful sight. The woman with whom I planned to spend the rest of my life was naked and asleep in my bed with me. Her warm and soft body was completely tangled up with mine. Life for me didn't get much better than this. Stephanie's simple beauty never failed to take my breath away, even when she was sporting the kinds of bruises that were on display at this time.

Although sleeping in late like this wasn't something in which I indulged very often, the powerful combination of extreme fatigue and long-awaited sexual satisfaction had kept both of our bodies in a dormant state way past dawn. Even though it was barely past eight o'clock in the morning, I knew it was time for us to get up and start the day. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to disentangle us without awakening Steph. Oh well, I thought, staying like this for a little while longer certainly wouldn't kill me. In fact, it felt good for me finally to be able to 'feed my addiction' to this woman I now held in my arms.

For far too long, I've barely allowed myself to dream of a life where waking up with my Babe draped across my body like this was a regular occurrence. I ached for it, but it seemed impossible given the fact that she always returned to Morelli, whether or not I pushed her in his direction. A few days ago, as I agonized over the location of Steph's GPS blip on the status screen, I was convinced that I had allowed the 'right moment' - as well as the woman I loved - to slip through my fingers for the last time. Now that I had her with me, I was ready to take the next step in turning my dreams into realities.

While my brain pondered exactly how to proceed during the day's planned activities, another part of my body petitioned for a completely different kind of decision now. Of course, there was never any doubt about which body part would win this internal debate. I was completely and hopelessly addicted to my Babe and, sleeping or not, I had to have her again.

Moving very slowly, I began to kiss and caress Steph's face, neck and shoulders until her body responded by shifting just enough for me to move into the right position for what I wanted to do. Working my way lower and lower toward my primary target, I gave my Babe a decidedly sensual 'wake-up call' which left her gasping. Once she was fully awake, I soon acquired my secondary target deep within her until I was gasping for air, too.

"_Carlos ... oh, Carlos_," I heard her softly murmuring, over and over again, while we both lay on our backs and caught our breath.

It was a dream-come-true for me to hear my name coming from Stephanie's lips like that and the sound of it definitely put a smile on my face. In the process of feeding my own addiction, I also was making good on my promise to ruin her for all other men. Soon enough, I silently vowed, my Babe wouldn't even be able to remember what Morelli's touch felt like.

When our heart rates and breathing finally returned to normal, I turned toward her and brushed the wayward strands of her wild and sexy hair away from her forehead. Gazing into her gorgeous blue eyes, I knew we had to get out of the bed immediately, because I already wanted her again. These days, it feels as though I'm _**always**_ ready to be with Steph and this constant state of 'readiness' is unlike anything I've ever experienced before - or at least, not since I was a horny teenager.

"C'mon, Babe, it's shower time," I said, pulling her off of the bed with me and then leading her into the bathroom. "And _**this**_ time, you get to be in there with me."

I acted quickly because I didn't want Steph to get a good look at herself in the mirror and freak out over her reflection. I love her wild appearance, especially when I know I've played a major role in getting her into such a state of dishevelment. But I do realize that she doesn't share my opinion about her appearance. Luckily for me, I was able to guide my Babe into the large, walk-in shower this morning without her even glancing at the mirror.

One of the most interesting things to me is the way that the fragrance of my shower gel really turns my Babe on - it's almost as though she's addicted to my soap. I like the Bulgari line of products well enough, but honestly, it's just soap. Nevertheless, I'll keep using the stuff forever if she continues to respond to it the way she did this morning. Of course, feeding _**her**_ sexy addiction meant that our shower took quite a bit longer than I originally had anticipated, but I'm not complaining.

Oddly enough, I felt more energized than ever after our time together in the shower and I was pretty sure that Steph felt the same way, too. I'd never wanted a woman as much as I wanted Stephanie Plum and I began to wonder how, or even _**if**_, I could convince her to kick her addiction to refined sugar once and for all. It definitely would be worth the effort and I could promise her that she wouldn't regret such a decision.

"Earth to Carlos," I suddenly heard Steph say to me while I pulled a t-shirt over my head, "Did you hear what I just said?"

Whoa! I hardly ever became distracted like that. "Sorry, Babe. Can you repeat your question?"

She was standing there in just her bra and panties and she grinned wickedly at me before saying, "I can't believe that _**I**_ caught _**you**_ daydreaming! I'll have to mark this day on my calendar. By the way, what day is this anyway? I'm all confused - is it Friday or Saturday?"

"It's Friday." I replied, and decided that Steph definitely would have to mark her calendar. I would have to mark mine, too, but not for the reason she'd just stated. If everything went according to my plans, we'd both want to remember this day and all of its events for the rest of our lives. "And I have a favor to ask of you."

"Okay, ask away."

"I know it was mean of me to ditch your snack cakes on the plane," I began, "but as a favor to me, I really would like for you to consider limiting your sugar intake for the duration of our stay here in Miami. Just the processed stuff, not honey or naturally sweet foods like fruit. I promise you, Babe, I'll make it worth your while."

She chewed on her lower lip as she considered my request and then she cut her eyes to me and asked, "Starting when?"

"Starting now." And I gathered her into my arms for another kiss - which, of course, led to our clothes ending up on the floor within a few short moments.

As we headed for the bed again, a loud noise stopped us in our tracks. Steph's stomach growled once more in protest and I think I heard a growl of frustration escape from my own throat. We definitely would have to figure out a regular feeding schedule for my Babe so that we wouldn't continue to be interrupted by her noisy stomach. For now, I let go of her and we reluctantly backed away from each other.

I sighed and held up my hands in surrender, "I'm not even going to try to compete with your hunger pangs, Babe. Do you want to accept a rain check for later?"

"Okay," she said, still short of breath. "Let's eat first, and then I'll decide about the sugar-free diet."

I quickly pulled on a t-shirt and some running shorts before I changed my mind and decided to drag Steph back to bed, food or no food. She put on similar clothes and we both walked out of the dressing room and toward the kitchen. Honestly, I was surprised that she had lasted this long without either coffee or food. We both needed breakfast and we needed it ASAP.

"You'll get to meet Rosalinda when she brings up our food," I told Steph. "I wouldn't be surprised if Shelly came up with her. They're a nice couple."

"I can't wait to compliment her stew. That was the best Cuban food I've ever tasted."

"Don't say that! She'll be on the phone to Ella in a heartbeat and then all we'll get when we return to New Jersey is plain, dry toast."

"I thought you said that Rosie and Ella are the best of friends."

"They are, but they're also very competitive. Be careful with your compliments. That's all I'm saying now."

Stephanie opened her mouth to ask another question, no doubt, but her stomach growled loudly again and we both had to laugh. Yep, it was past time to feed the beast. Picking up my cell phone to call Rosie's extension, I noticed that I had received a flurry of messages from Tank. Being off-line meant that I silenced my phone and only checked on things if I felt like it. Now, I realized, trouble was brewing back in the Burg and a chilling thought occurred to me.

"Babe, when's the last time you checked your phone messages?" I asked.

"Oh, not since we landed," she confessed. "When we arrived at the airport, I only heard part of one message from my dad, but the phone died in the middle of him saying something about being happy for us no matter what my mother thinks. It was very strange, especially considering the fact that this isn't the first time I've gone out of town, or even the first time I've traveled with you. The problem is that I only have my car charger with me, so I'll have to wait until we drive somewhere before I can listen to the whole message."

Damn! This meant that I'd only have a tiny window of time in which to clear things up for Steph before she recharged her phone and heard her father's message in its entirety. Frank Plum was even slicker than I'd thought he was and, in his own way, he was forcing my hand. I silently vowed never to underestimate that sly old fox ever again.

Now, based on the text messages Tank had been sending me, the whole Burg was forcing my hand. My Babe probably would freak out once she listened to her voicemail. Even though the timing was all wrong according to _**my**_ plans, it was time for me to tell Stephanie everything. I decided that I'd wait until after we'd eaten.

Rosalinda Santos and her husband, Sheldon Markowitz, knocked on the apartment door within five minutes of my call. Rosie was a short, slightly plump woman with flame-red hair and sparkling brown eyes. Shelly was a tall, very thin, bald man with piercing blue eyes. He also was one of the hairiest men I'd ever seen. He had dark, wiry hair all over the rest of his body, except for the top of his head. Clearly, I was in no danger of my Babe drooling over this particular RangeMan employee.

I introduced the couple to Stephanie, who then praised Rosie's Ropa Viejo stew. My Babe impressed all of us as she pronounced the Spanish words perfectly. Rosie nodded to Stephanie and told her how pleased they were to finally meet her. Shelly waved goodbye as Rosie carried in a tray full of my usual breakfast selections - bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon and slices of fresh fruit. This time, though, there also was a sugar bowl and a plate which held several Boston crème donuts.

I cringed inwardly when I saw the additional selections on the tray. I was going to strangle Ella when I saw her again. The donuts had to be my Trenton housekeeper's doing. She probably had called Rosie and told her all about Stephanie's sugary food preferences. I could just imagine the two older women chatting and gossiping about all the times Steph stayed in my apartment, too.

Stephanie's eyes lit up when she noticed the donuts, but her expression quickly sobered when she made eye contact with me. I almost felt sorry for my Babe as a look of pure anxiety and dismay filled her eyes and she began to chew on her lower lip. We both knew she really wanted - and needed - her 'sugar fix', so I was shocked when I heard her ask for Rosie to remove the donuts from the tray.

"Oh, Rosie! Thanks so much for bringing me some of my favorite breakfast food!" Steph said enthusiastically. "My guess is that a little 'birdie' named Ella must have tipped you off."

"Why, yes, she did!" Rosie admitted. "We have a very good bakery just around the corner from here. I'm sure it's as good as the ones in New Jersey."

Steph leaned over and spoke as though she was letting Rosie in on a secret, "The thing is, Rosie - and I'm sure that Ella didn't know this - is that I'm trying to lose a few pounds. So, you see, donuts and muffins and ... and cake are all forbidden foods for me for the time being," she explained, smiling at Rosie and avoiding further eye contact with me. "I'll just have whatever Rang--, I mean, Carlos, is having while we're here in Miami."

"But Miss Plum, you look gorgeous - and you're so thin!" Rosie gushed, happy to know something that Ella didn't already know. "I find it hard to believe that you're the sort of girl who has to watch her weight."

"I appreciate you saying so, Rosie, but my clothes don't lie," Stephanie said to the older woman. "Don't get me wrong; I'd _**love**_ to eat those donuts right now, but they wouldn't love me back. In fact, they'd only add inches to my waistline. And since I plan on going to the beach a lot while I'm here, it's probably best if I avoid fattening foods altogether. Anyway, Carlos tells me that fresh fruit is much better for me."

"This is true," Rosie nodded. "Would you like for me to bring up more pineapple and mango slices for you, instead?"

"That would be ... great."

Watching Rosie disappear into the hallway with the plate of donuts had to be one of the most difficult things Stephanie Plum had ever done. Only because I knew my Babe so well did I fully understand the magnitude of the sacrifice she was making. Still, it was funny to hear her saying all the right things about her diet, even though she usually had no intention of following such sound guidance. I almost didn't know what to say next, especially because the idea that Steph was at least going to try to limit her sugar made my pulse race.

As soon as my housekeeper was in the elevator, I pulled Steph close to me in a gentle embrace, kissed her on her forehead and said, "Proud of you, Babe."

She shuddered and gazed up at me. "You'd better make this worth my while, mister, or there will be hell to pay."

Hugging her tighter, I murmured into her hair, **"Marry me and I'll make it worth your while every day and every night of our existence."** The Spanish flowed out so easily before I could stop it.

"Mmm. That sounded very ... romantic," Steph said and she snuggled into my chest, "I love the way Spanish words sound when you say them, Carlos, but didn't you promise to speak English with me?"

"Okay, I apologize."

She was right, of course, and I knew it. At this point, I'd do anything to keep the peace so that my plans would have a better chance of succeeding. I refused to allow myself to make the same kinds of mistakes Morelli had made.

"No, Carlos, you can't just apologize," Steph insisted, "Whenever you speak Spanish in front of me - whether we're alone or if you're talking to someone else - you have to translate."

Thankfully, Rosie's timely knocking on the door saved me from telling Steph what I'd said. My efficient housekeeper bustled in and placed another silver tray on the dining room table. This one contained plates of mango slices and pineapple rings. There was now enough fruit in front of us to keep us healthy and regular for days.

"Ella has been telling me about you forever," Rosie said to Stephanie, "And now I can see for myself why she likes you so much. I hope you'll enjoy your stay here in Miami well enough to come back and visit for a longer period of time. When Pedro told me that you'd be staying on the--"

I cut her off, "Rosie, I'm sure that Stephanie will return to Miami in the future. She loves the beach and the ocean and this is one of the best places in the world to enjoy both. Next time, we'll stay long enough for you to make us both gain a few extra pounds with your cooking."

"Good," she said. "I'm tired of being jealous of my good friend Ella all the time. It will be my pleasure to spoil you for a while."

"We'll look forward to that, too," I said and I smiled at her.

Rosie understood my silent dismissal and headed for the door, "Don't worry about the dishes or anything; I'll come back up after you leave for the day. And I'll let Túlio know about the changes to the food preferences, too. Again, it's wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Stephanie. Enjoy your stay!"

"Who's Túlio?" Steph asked as soon as the door closed behind Rosie.

"My grandfather's chef," I replied and began to eat.

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, but she didn't waste any more time asking questions after that. She really was hungry and she seemed to enjoy the whole-grain bagels with cream cheese and all the fresh fruit. Although my Babe hadn't turned away the sugar bowl, I was happy to see that she sweetened her coffee with only one level teaspoon of sugar instead of her usual heaping tablespoons of the stuff. However, once she'd filled her belly with the nutritious food, Steph's cravings turned back toward me.

Like I said, I couldn't get enough of my Babe and it was obvious that she was going to make me 'pay' for her mostly sugar-free diet. Again, I'm not complaining, but after we both finished our breakfast, we just weren't able to make it all the way to the bedroom. Knowing that our time was limited, I apologized and explained to her that the 'quickie' on the living room couch would have to tide us over until much later.

We cleaned up afterward and started to get ready for the day. I paused while I was shaving to watch Stephanie applying her make-up. Now she was wearing my robe and I loved seeing her in it. I still think she put on too much mascara, but the rest of her 'magic' did a good job of covering her bruised eye. Once again, I was mesmerized by her simple beauty and I had to fight to stay focused and in control of my addiction to her body. This day promised to be another long one, but I knew that the end result would be worth all of the waiting.

I finished threading a belt through the loops of my slacks and buckled it before I changed my mind again and we ended spending the rest of the day in bed. Choosing one of my nicer wristwatches and then a diamond stud for my earlobe was easy, but I deliberated over which shoes to wear. Finally settling on a pair of casual black loafers, I sat down on the leather bench to slide them onto my feet. It was only then that I noticed the way Steph was staring at me.

"What?" I asked as I stood up and checked my appearance in the mirror.

She nodded toward my reflection in the dressing room mirror and said, "That shirt looks very nice on you, but if this is what the folks here at RangeMan of Miami are wearing, then I'm in trouble. Oddly enough, Ella didn't pack _**any**_ black clothes for me to wear on this trip."

I glanced down at my black slacks and my black-and-white, short-sleeved Cubavera shirt and shrugged. "None of _**this**_ is part of the uniform; these clothes are just the ones I chose to wear this morning. Everyone wears black at all of my facilities because black is easy. As for you, I think your khaki skirt and that white blouse will be just fine, but you should wear comfortable shoes for when you and Juanita go shopping this afternoon."

"Oh, that's right," she said as she began to rummage through her open suitcase. "I forgot all about Silvio's wife taking me shopping today. If I need to buy a black outfit, I can do that while we're--" Then she stopped and turned to face me. "Wait just a minute! How did _**you**_ know that I have a skirt and blouse in here?"

"I noticed them when I was removing those Tastycakes." No, I wasn't ready to share my on-line shopping secrets with her just yet.

"Hmm," Steph replied, narrowing her eyes at me. I could tell that she was trying to decide whether or not to believe me, but the moment passed and she wriggled into the pieces of clothing I'd suggested to her. Then she slid her feet into a pair of fancy-looking flip-flips, put on silver hoop earrings, and fluffed her ponytail. My Babe looked hot and I told her so.

"Thanks. Ella made some nice choices for me," Steph said. "It's as though she knew exactly what I'd need for this little _**impromptu**_ trip. She even packed a fabulous bikini for me."

"A bikini?" I feigned surprise as I attached my small personal arsenal of knives and guns to my body.

"You probably thought they were matching underwear when you were pawing through my bag to find my Butterscotch Krimpets."

Stephanie then turned around and pulled two scraps of cobalt blue material out of her open suitcase. She dangled the pieces in front of her body which enabled me to imagine her clad only in the bathing suit. Clamping down on my libido, I struggled to maintain self-control again so that we'd have a chance to escape the apartment before it became the afternoon.

"Ella is _**definitely**_ getting a big Christmas bonus this year," I said aloud. I zipped up my suitcase, carried it out of the bedroom and walked toward the den. "Alright, Babe, pack it up. We've got a lot to do before our date tonight. And remember to check around for _**all **_of your stuff, because we're not coming back up here for the rest of our stay."

"What? Where are we go--?"

I held up a hand to stop her question and said, "The place I told you about - the one owned by Súarez Enterprises - is located nearby. No worries, Steph; I know you're going to love it. Just be patient with me as I take you around town today. Miami really is my other home and I want you to feel comfortable here."

"So ... we're going sightseeing today?" Steph now had a confused expression on her face.

"Maybe a little," I replied vaguely. "But we have a few official things to deal with before lunch, so we need to pick up the pace here and get moving."

"Wait just another minute, Carlos," Steph put her hands on her hips and squinted at me again. "You said we're off-line now and I thought we came down here to relax. 'Official things' don't really sound very relaxing to me. Besides, if there's a beach nearby, _**that's**_ where I want to go."

"I'll make you a deal, Babe," I said, thinking fast. "I promise we'll spend the next two days at the beach - all day long for as much time as your skin can bear - if you'll just stick with my plan for today, alright?"

"Hmm, that all depends," Steph tapped her index finger on her chin as she considered this, "What _**is**_ your plan for today, Carlos? You've been very vague so far and I want details before I make another decision. I need to know what my options are, right?"

Trying hard not to sigh in exasperation, I began to explain, "First, we'll go downstairs and I'll introduce you to Gonzo and the staff here at RangeMan of Miami - or at least, everyone who's on duty right now. Then we need to go downtown to take care of some official business, but that shouldn't take very long. After lunch, Silvio's wife, Juanita, will meet us at the bistro and from there she'll take you shopping for something suitable to wear tonight. I'll take care of other business while you're shopping and when you're finished, we'll briefly visit with my grandfather and settle into our accommodations. Finally, after all that, we'll shower, get dressed and then go out on our date."

"Wow! That's quite a full schedule for being off-line," Steph remarked. "What if I decide just to head to the beach instead of going shopping?"

I shrugged. "Then we wouldn't be able to go out tonight."

"What?" She exclaimed. "Why not?"

"For one thing, the social scene here in Miami is quite a bit dressier than the one back in Trenton, so you really do _**need**_ to go shopping for something more appropriate," I explained. "Trust me, you'll feel more comfortable wearing a fancier skirt or dress when we go out tonight. Juanita will steer you in the right fashion direction. Secondly, I know how well you clean up, Babe, and I want to show you off. I can hardly wait to get out on the dance floor with you."

Steph stared at me for a moment before she said, "Forgive me, Carlos, but I'm having a difficult time imagining you and me dancing. I'm sure that you'd be fine, but you _**know**_ how much of a klutz I can be. That's why Joe and I rarely went out to clubs where people danced. Besides, the only dance steps I know are the ones Dickie forced me to learn so that I wouldn't fall on my ass and embarrass him at our wedding reception. The dancing lessons were kind of fun, but Dickie never had time to take me out after we were married and then we were weren't married anymore, so ... I probably forgot how to dance, anyway."

"Don't worry, Babe," I assured her, "The female dancer is only as good as the man who leads her around on the dance floor. Just follow my lead and I promise I won't let you fall on your ass. I have plans for that fine ass of yours, so I'll protect it at all costs."

"Humph!" Steph grumbled. "Well, don't blame me if you end up with battered toes tonight. Really, Carlos, we don't have to go anywhere special; casual dining is totally fine by me. Remember, I'm supposed to be paying for my own way while we're down here. Surely, there must be someplace where I can have a good, cheap meal _**and**_ still wear my comfy jeans and a t-shirt. I'd even be willing to bet that there's a McDonald's around here somewhere. Two bucks says I'm right - here's my wager." And she pulled the dollar bills out of her pocket to wave them at me.

"Babe."

I couldn't believe that Steph was being such a smartass and trying to negotiate with me like this, but to be fair, the problem was that she had no idea what I was trying to do. Then I also realized that she truly didn't understand about the unofficial dress codes which existed in this little corner of the world. Miami night life was over-the-top glitzy and gaudy. Before I had a chance to explain it all to her, though, she continued to argue her case for going to the beach instead of shopping.

"Carlos, we're in _**Florida**_, for crying out loud," she said and walked over to the window. "Look at that view! We both know that it's raining cats and dogs back in New Jersey, but the sun is shining here and it looks like it's going to be a great day to lie out on the warm sand and work on my tan. Seriously, I don't care about going out to some fancy place tonight; all I really want to do is to go to the beach and relax."

I stared at Steph for a moment and then I shook my head in amazement. I walked over to the window and plucked the dollars from her fingers. Stuffing the money back into her shirt pocket, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissed the top of her head and said, "And _**this **_is why I love you."

"So, there _**is**_ a McDonald's nearby," she said and smiled up at me, "Does that mean we can go there for dinner tonight so I can lay on the beach this afternoon?"

"No," I replied, hating to disappoint her, "But there's always tomorrow and the next day."

And I meant it. As soon as we finished the business of today, I'd gladly buy a Big Mac and fries for my Babe and lay out on the beach with her for a few days of relaxation in the Florida sunshine. I'd also be quite happy to rub sunscreen all over her beautiful backside, being very careful not to neglect even an inch of her exposed skin. But for now, I had to stay focused on my very important, time-critical missions. We had to go - now.

Steph finished packing her suitcase and then we took the elevator to the fifth floor. I had called Gonzo, so he was waiting for us when the elevator doors slid open. I braced myself for the inevitable grilling he was going to give me, even though I knew it was only going to be the first of many. Really, though, my cousin wasn't going to harass me nearly as much as my sisters would in the near future, so I told myself that this probably wasn't going to be too painful.

"Hey, cousin, it's about time you showed your ugly mug!" Gonzo greeted me with a manly bear-hug and patted me on my back. Then he turned his attention to Stephanie and extended his right hand, "And you must be the infamous Stephanie Plum. I'm Pedro Gonzalez Súarez, Carlos' cousin and second-in-command here at RangeMan of Miami. You may call me Pete or Gonzo; either name is fine."

"Thanks, Gonzo. Please call me Stephanie," she replied and shook his hand.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Stephanie. I must say, though, that Silvio's description of you simply did _**not **_do you justice." He was still holding her hand and he brought it to his lips and slowly kissed the back of it, smiling at her the entire time.

Stephanie turned her head toward me and loudly whispered, "I thought you said he wasn't as big a flirt as Lester."

I shrugged and replied, "I never said he _**wouldn't**_ flirt with you."

Gonzo laughed and released Steph's hand, "Ah, so you've been properly warned, huh? Well, welcome to Miami, anyway. I trust that you both ... _**slept**_ well. And I understand that congratulations are in order." Then he smirked at me.

I shot my cousin a warning glance and said, "Yes, that was quite the capture Stephanie made by tackling Cantrell the other day. Wish you could have seen it for yourself. With Steph on our team, we're going to make a lot more money."

Both Gonzo and I knew that wasn't what he was talking about, but he let it slide and then we both escorted Steph around to all the fifth floor offices, ending with the control room. Gonzo introduced her to the men who were on duty at the monitors. Almost everything was the same as in New Jersey, except that here there was a maritime monitor in addition to the regular ones.

Stephanie watched in fascination as one of the guys - a sandy-haired computer genius named Fred - explained the differences between his screen, which showed the action in the waters surrounding the coastline of southern Florida and the Keys, and the land-based screens that she was accustomed to seeing. Here in Miami, many of our clients hired RangeMan to provide security systems for their boats. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough to prevent her from noticing the name of a particular blip on Fred's display.

"Does that ... does that icon say ... the _**Batcave**_?" She turned and asked me.

"I'll explain it all in good time, Babe," I replied. "First things first."

Steph raised her eyebrow at me, "What does _**that**_ mean?"

I raised my eyebrow in return and said, "If you're finished looking at things around the office here, we'll head downtown and I'll tell you what I mean."

As we walked down the hall to the elevator, Gonzo ran up behind us and tapped me on the shoulder. "I know you're off-line, Carlos, but I think I'm going to need your help with Val after all. That stubborn cousin of ours just called me and flatly refused to help with tonight's distraction at the club. He's being a real bitch - pardon my language, Stephanie - and saying that our use of the club and its entertainment is help enough. I reminded him that we're part-owners, too, but then he hung up on me."

"I'll take care of it and get back to you later this afternoon," I said and ushered Steph into the elevator. "And Gonzo, tell Danny Cruz that I'll be waiting for him in the gym bright and early on Monday morning. I'm going to guarantee that yesterday's speeding ticket will be the last one he ever receives while working for RangeMan. Understand?"

As soon as the sliding doors closed, I cornered my Babe and kissed her deeply and passionately before she could ask me any more questions. Doing this now, in full view of the security cameras on board, was the best way I could think of announcing to the men on shift that Stephanie and I were not to be disturbed while we were here in town. Knowing my men, I was sure that the word would spread throughout the organization like wildfire.

When we got to the garage level, it took every ounce of my weakening self-control to keep moving forward. All I wanted to do was return to the seventh floor and stay in bed with Stephanie for the duration of our stay in Miami. From the expression on her face, my sugar-deprived Babe was feeling much the same way. Both of us were like addicts, but I thought that being hooked on each other was an awesome thing. Someday, we'd be able to indulge ourselves - but today wasn't going to be that day.

Focus, focus, _**focus**_ on the goal ahead, I commanded myself as I beeped open the car's door locks. Stephanie's eyes lit up when I opened the passenger side door of my silver Mercedes E550 Coupe for her. Even though it was just a car, I loved its light gray leather upholstery, dark wood panel accents and the retractable panoramic sunroof, too. Stephanie was right about the fabulous weather here today; driving with the top open was going to be great.

"_**Now**_ will you please tell me what's going on here, Carlos?" Steph asked after we pulled into the traffic on Biscayne Boulevard and headed south. "I know I saw the Batcave on that screen."

"I'm not ready to answer that one, yet. You can ask again tonight."

She glared at me for a moment and then said, "Alright, then. Be that way. Who is Val? And of what club are you a part-owner? Are you willing to answer **_those_** questions, or should I just stick to the weather and local sports?" She was rummaging in her purse and my blood froze when she plugged in the car charger for her cell phone.

"Val is Ricardo Valentino Súarez the Fifth," I explained and I tried to stay calm about the phone messages. "His father is my mother's oldest brother and Papí Súarez's primary heir. The club is called '¡Caliente!' which means 'Hot!' in Spanish. Gonzo and I, as well as another cousin, Cátarina, all gave money to help Val establish the dance club over in South Beach a few years ago. Val and Cat teach a variety of Latin dances to anyone who wants to learn them - mostly tourists - and they also put on a variety show every Friday night. Maybe we'll stop by later and catch part of Val's latest creation."

"Wow!" Steph sounded impressed. "Not only are you the world's best bounty hunter, but you're also a successful soldier of fortune, security systems expert, business mogul and now, club boss, too. You really do have a diversified portfolio, Mr. Mañoso." Then she returned her attention to her cell phone and started to punch in a number.

"Don't call your voicemail!" I said in a commanding tone of voice, surprising her into stillness. "Not yet, anyway. Before you do that, I have to tell you something about ... about your father's phone message."

"Okay, Carlos," she said slowly and placed the cell phone on her lap. "You've got my undivided attention."

I took a deep breath and began to talk, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me. "Yesterday afternoon, when I called your father to inform him of your sudden travel plans, he mistakenly thought that we were ... that we were ... eloping."

"He _**what**_?"

"Babe, I know it's hard to believe, but your father actually gave us his permission to get married. He even told me to call him 'Frank' and he practically begged us to elope ASAP."

"Omigod!" It looked like she was beginning to hyperventilate.

I reached over and covered her hand with mine. "Breathe, Steph. Don't freak out on me now. Your father also promised to take care of any ... issues ... with your mother. I'm pretty sure that's what his phone message is all about."

"Omigod!" She repeated and I could feel her trembling.

"Babe, I love you very much!" I tried to reassure her. "And now that I've got you, I don't _**ever**_ want to lose you. This is _**not**_ how or where I wanted to do this, but ... Stephanie Michelle Plum, will you consider saying 'yes' when I ask you to marry me?"

"**_What_**?" She exclaimed. "What does that mean, Carlos? I don't understand."

Everything had just become so screwed up that, in my mind's eye, I could see Tank shaking his head in pure disgust. Here I was, driving toward downtown Miami, and I had just proposed to propose to the woman I hoped to marry. It wouldn't surprise me if she turned me down flat. A car suddenly swerved into our lane and I snatched my hand away from Steph to maintain control of the Mercedes. I wanted to shoot the tires out from under the idiot driver in front of me, but traffic was too heavy for such antics today.

"Babe ... what that means is that I've screwed up," I began to explain. "Like I said, I already have a ring waiting for you in a safe place. I had wanted to wait for the right moment to propose to you properly, but the timing for everything has somehow slipped beyond my control and it's forcing me to do things out of order. Right now, we're headed to the Dade County courthouse to sign the official papers for a marriage license."

"Whoa! Carlos, I haven't even agreed to this, yet!"

"I know, Steph, but that's why I asked you to _**consider**_ saying yes. I will ask you again - when the moment is right. Please ... trust me on this."

"But--"

"The only reason we're getting the license now, Babe, is that _**I'm**_ required to have a three-day waiting period. If I was a New Jersey resident like you are, we could get a marriage license any morning and get married that same day or whenever we felt like it. But for business and tax purposes, I've maintained my legal residency in the state of Florida; therefore, once I obtain a marriage license, I must wait three full days before I can marry you. That is ... _**if**_ you want to marry me."

"Omigod!"

"That's why it was so important for us to fly through that storm to get here sooner rather than later. By arriving here and obtaining a marriage license on the last business day of the week, we'll have the weekend to talk through all the issues and to think about everything and ... and then we'll have the flexibility to decide what should or shouldn't happen on Tuesday."

I cut my eyes toward Stephanie for a moment, but she only continued to stare at me, open-mouthed and barely able to speak. All of the color had drained from her face and it was easy to see that she was in a mild state of shock. I actually felt the same way now that I had said everything aloud, but I had to concentrate on the ridiculous traffic in order to get us to our destination safely.

"I ... uh ... my .... um ... you ... we ..." These were the sounds coming out of her mouth.

Stephanie seemed to be incapable of putting together a coherent statement for the time being, so I reached across the console again, placed my hand over hers, threaded my fingers between her fingers and held on tight. I had been thinking about all of these things for the better part of the past thirty-six hours, but my Babe's poor brain was trying to process all this information in the span of a few minutes.

"Babe, all we're doing today is _**applying**_ to get married," I had to keep trying to reassure her. "The marriage license is something we can put on a shelf for the next three days or the next three weeks. We can act on it or ... we can ... rip it up if that's what you want."

"No, Carlos!" She cried. "That's not what I want. I mean ... I want the license, but ... I ... I don't know what I'm doing. Dickie didn't count because he was such a jerk. And I never got this far with Joe."

"I know."

"You know?"

"Every time things got too ... close, Babe, you'd run away from Morelli. And usually, you'd run to me."

"You knew?"

"I counted on it, Babe."

"You did?"

"Yep. Do you feel like running away from **_me_** now?"

"No."

"Then what's the problem?"

Her shoulders slumped and she looked embarrassed. "What will my mother do when she finds out? Even my closest friends won't understand. Carlos, everything's moving so fast, I hardly understand it myself! What will everyone think?"

I pulled her hand over to my chest and held it against my heart until it stopped trembling. "Babe, maybe you should listen to your father's phone message now. Then you'll at least know what _**he**_ thinks."

Steph flipped open her phone and punched in the access code for her voicemail account. I was beginning to realize that this was a big mistake when her grip on my hand became tighter and tighter. She kept saying "Omigod ... _**omigod**_!" as she listened to message after message from the people back in Trenton. Finally, she closed her phone and her eyes, leaned back against the headrest and moaned, "I'm doomed!"

"What's happened now?" I asked, worried about the ashen appearance of my Babe's usually healthy complexion. She pulled her hand away from mine and I flexed my fingers until I felt my circulation return to normal.

Steph sighed and began to explain, "My father's message from last night was exactly what you said it would be. However, this morning, my parents had a big fight when my father discovered that my mother had invited Angie Morelli over to the house for coffee and pastries _**and **_to figure out a plan to get Joe and me back together again. My father called them 'two old busybodies who needed to mind their own business' and he told both of them to forget about their schemes ... and then he told them why."

I whistled in amazement.

"That's only the first half of it," she continued, her voice sounding hollow. "Apparently, there was a lot of yelling and swearing and crying and now the whole Burg knows that I'm here with you - eloping."

"Whoa!" I almost swerved out of my lane. Now I understood the urgency and tone of the messages Tank had sent me. It seemed that lots of things had deteriorated quickly after we flew away. Tank had texted me that Lula was very upset when she found out that he knew about my plans and hadn't confided in her. I could only imagine the voicemail message she must have left for Stephanie.

"You got that right," she said bitterly. "And there were several more messages from each of my parents - separately, of course. Grandma Mazur, Joe, Mary Lou, Lula, Vinnie, even Valerie all had something to say, too. _**Everyone's**_ mad at me for not telling them what I was doing. If we go back there now, we're both going to have to wear disguises and flak vests for quite a while."

"I'm real sorry about that, Babe. I didn't think the Burg would implode for at least another week."

Stephanie suddenly turned toward me and I could see she that she'd just had a wild idea. "Why don't we just stay in Florida until spring?" She said. "Maybe by then all this will have blown over and no one will care about my personal life anymore."

"Do you really believe that?"

"No, of course not."

"Babe, you still have the option of turning down my proposal, even though everyone thinks we're already getting married."

"Oh no ... really?" She sounded worried and sad at that bit of news and, for some strange reason, her reaction made me feel better.

"In case you haven't noticed, Steph, I'm addicted to you," I admitted to her. "I'll stand by you and defend you, no matter what happens. Of course, I'll always want to marry you, but if you just want us to live together, I'll adjust. As long as we're together, Babe, we'll be fine. Unfortunately, if we don't get the official marriage license now, we'll have to wait even longer and our time here really is short."

"Why is that?"

"Like it or not, we need to be back in New Jersey by the end of next week. We still have to go to court against the kids who robbed me and it's _**your**_ testimony about discovering the camera connections that will really condemn them. Besides, my own mother will kill me if I'm not there for my Grandma Rosa's eightieth birthday party next Friday."

Steph shook her head to clear it and said, "But Carlos, don't we need birth certificates and blood tests and all kinds of other documents in order to get a marriage license?"

"I've got all the required documents with me and, no, Florida doesn't require us to have a blood test."

"You have a copy of my birth certificate?" She sounded incredulous.

"Babe."

"Seriously, Ranger, how did _**you**_ get a copy of my birth certificate?"

"I'm the CEO of RangeMan, remember? I personally conducted your background search before I hired you the first time, Babe. I also have a copy of your first marriage license and certificate, as well as your official divorce papers. That's all we need in order to apply for the license today."

"Oh."

"I have all my documents, too. I'll even let you see them. Here." And I handed her a large manila envelope.

"Good lord!" She said after she flipped through the papers. "Carlos! You weren't even twenty-one and ... and Rachel was ... she was _**barely**_ eighteen when you got married."

"I already told you all about that."

"Yes, but it's different when you see it writing," Steph opened her mouth to say something, closed it and paused, then finally asked, "Did you ... did you ever love Rachel?"

I shook my head and stared at the rear fender of the car in front of me. "No. It's like I said, I took advantage of Rachel when I was home on leave from the Army. I went to high school with her older sister, Barbara. Rachel was always the tag-along kid sister with a teeny-bopper crush on me, but she grew up nicely."

"How did you ... how did it happen?"

"I literally bumped into Rachel at a frat party on the 'Canes campus and she was very happy to see me again, even though I had spilled beer all down the front of her shirt. The rest of the night, we danced a lot and drank a lot and she flirted shamelessly with me. She finally confessed that she'd always hoped to lose her virginity to me and so, I obliged her."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I was an incredible jerk," I said. It was sad to think that, no matter how much we would try, Steph and I might never be able to have kids of our own, but it took only one night of carelessness for me to ruin Rachel's young life. "Rachel dropped out of college and moved back in with her parents when she discovered that she was pregnant."

"I don't mean to be obnoxious, but ... how did she know it was you?"

"Oh, Rachel was a virgin alright, and I was the first and only man she'd ever been with. When she contacted me, I agreed to marry her so that she and the baby would have access to the military health-care system. Neither of us was ready for marriage or parenthood, but I didn't want any child of mine to be born a bastard."

"Didn't you even try to love her - for the child's sake?"

I shook my head. "No, Babe, to my great shame, I never loved Rachel and you know that I've remained emotionally detached from Julie until recently."

"That's so ... sad."

"What can I say?" I shrugged and continued to explain, but it sounded truly pathetic now. "I was completely focused on my military career at that time and I never wanted a family, Babe. I didn't want anything or anybody to tie me down - ever. I feel differently now, but I can't change the past. My mother and grandmother were devastated when I divorced Rachel right after Julie was born."

"They didn't understand about your devotion to the military?"

I shook my head, "No, Steph. In fact, Abuela Blanca had always hoped that, once the baby arrived, I would decide to leave the Army, return to finish my college degree here at the University of Miami, and settle down in Coral Gables. She felt that I had deprived her of being involved in her first great-granddaughter's life - and she was right. After the divorce, my family and Rachel's family had minimal contact while Julie was a baby and then it dwindled to nothing more than an updated photo every year after Rachel married Ron Martine - that is, until the Scrog incident. Now, Julie has been asking to visit my family. Of course, it's too late for my Abuela Blanca to get to know her and for that, I am deeply sorry."

Steph was silent for a moment and then she asked, "Are you planning to tell Julie about us?"

"Yes, but she's a smart girl, as you well know. She already asked me if you and I were going to get married someday."

"When was that?"

"Right after she met you."

"Oh."

"Listen, Steph," I began, "I may as well tell you now so that you won't be shocked when you start hearing all the stories from my family. I was a wild, spoiled-rotten kid until the Army changed me and then I was a complete jerk with women until I messed up Rachel's life. It wasn't pretty and I'm glad you didn't know me back then."

"You know, I'm not surprised to hear that you were a bad boy."

"Yes, well, **_you_** certainly seem to have a thing for us bad boys. From all the stories I've heard about Joe Morelli's younger days, I was more like him than I've ever cared to admit to you before now. In fact, I'm extremely lucky that Rachel was the only girl I ever knocked up. But you, Babe, are the _**only**_ woman I've ever truly loved."

"What about Jeanne Ellen Burrows?"

I laughed aloud. "What makes you think I'd have anything to do with _**her**_?"

"Well, you two seemed to have had some sort of ... past relationship."

"Babe, I'm more in danger of losing you to Jeanne Ellen than you are of losing me to her," I said. "She swings both ways and I don't play that game."

"Oh."

I continued to explain, "Jeanne Ellen was a Marine before she became a bounty hunter and she's extremely proficient at what she does. We've worked together on a few cases and we might work together in the future, but, seriously, all she and I have ever had - or ever will have - is a professional relationship."

"I see."

"Do you? Really?" I asked as I turned in to the courthouse parking garage and pulled into an empty space. Then I faced her and said, "Stephanie Plum, there is _**no one**_ else in my life. I love you more than life itself and I want to marry you - yesterday, if possible. Since it's not possible, we'll just have to keep moving forward in time and do the best we can."

"But ... but what about all my ... emotional baggage?" She asked. "Aren't you worried about my messed-up past or my commitment issues or my inability to obtain car insurance?"

"Not really, no," I said. "Look, Steph, I realize that you've been deeply involved with Joe Morelli for a very long time - he was our first case together, remember? I know that you were married to Dickie Orr before that, but I'm a divorced father, so I can't pass judgment on you for being previously married, either. As far as I'm concerned, that's all in the past. And I can _**always**_ get car insurance. What I need to know right now is this: Have I ruined you for all other men, yet?"

My heart flipped when she grinned at me and said, "Yes, Carlos, I think it's safe to say that I'm officially ruined."

"Do you love me, Babe?"

"Yes. Definitely."

"Then let's do this thing and stop fooling around. Life's too short."

Stephanie reached over and placed her cool hand on my warm face. "You're right, Carlos. Life _**is**_ too short. You could have died at the command of that insane drug lord. Benito Ramirez could have killed me long ago - twice. We both could have died on that plane ride down here. We could have died in that crazy traffic today."

"But we didn't." And I leaned in to kiss her soft lips as I spoke. "We're still alive. And we're here together. And it's good." I pressed the button which caused the sunroof to close and pocketed the car keys.

"But we didn't," she echoed and returned each of my kisses. "We're still alive. And we're here together. And it's good - very, _**very**_ good."

"So, you love me?" I asked, wanting to hear her reaffirm her answer from before.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded and kissed me again.

"Nice to know, Babe." I gave her a full-on smile and leaned away from her. We had to get out of the car _**now**_ before I ripped her clothes off and we missed our time window.

Steph licked her lips and gazed at me hungrily. Clearly she felt like feeding her addiction, too, because she asked me, "Do we have to go in right this instant?"

"Here's the deal," I said as I quickly got out of the car. "The county clerk will be leaving for lunch in less than thirty minutes and then she's heading out for an early weekend get-away with her husband, so we need to hurry."

"How do you know all this information about the clerk?" She asked me after I came around to the passenger side of the car to hold the door open for her.

"She's my cousin, Sara Súarez, and I'm the one who's paying for her weekend get-away in exchange for her expediting our paperwork."

"That figures." And she finally took my hand and got out of the car.

"She'll be very curious about you - just like everybody else you're going to meet this week - but since I've already paid her off, she won't blab anything to the rest of the family."

"You have a lot of cousins."

"It's good to know people in key positions." I patted the manila envelope for emphasis.

"Especially when they're related to you," Steph remarked as she smoothed down her skirt and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She pulled her lipstick out of her purse and applied another layer to her lips. Then she checked her appearance once more in the car window's reflection. Sighing, she turned to me and smiled brightly and my heart flipped again.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

She nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Then she threaded her fingers through mine and squeezed tight.

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A/N: I wish I could update faster, but this has been another hectic week for me. (Jeez, aren't they all hectic?) And now we have another half-foot of snow on the ground. I feel like the story's pace isn't as quick as I'd like for it to be, so I hope you'll bear with me as I slowly crank out these longer chapters. I have several other OCs to introduce to you and it just takes time - and lots of words - to set everything up. BTW, did you catch the major clues I dropped this time? Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: Okay, I didn't do all my research and I just found out that there's no parking garage for the Miami-Dade County Courthouse. Oh, well. This is fiction, so we're going to pretend that there **_**is **_**a garage, okay? Although, from what I could see of the street scene on Google Maps, I'll bet that the residents of Dade County **_**wish **_**there was better parking available to them. Anyway, I've finally decided to use the name 'Ranger' to describe most of the actions concerning the man we all know and love so much - it's less confusing for me as a writer. However, I've also decided to have Stephanie call him 'Carlos' in the situations where it would please him the most, such as when they're around his family or when they're being intimate. And now we're back to Stephanie's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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I might be a stay-at-home mother someday, but I'll always be trying to fly off the garage roof. That's just who I am.

_Seven Up_

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Chapter 15: Always Wonder Woman

Even though I always wanted to become Wonder Woman when I grew up, I never really cared about being Diana Prince. I don't have anything against the whole alter-ego identity thing; it's just that I happen to like the name _**I've**_ grown up with much better than Miss Prince. And much to my delight, I just found out that if I decide to marry Ranger, my married name could remain Stephanie Plum.

Twenty minutes ago, when I walked into the Dade County Courthouse in downtown Miami, I was unaware that within the Spanish-speaking cultures, most women retain their maiden name after marriage. Apparently, the concept of a 'maiden name' is something that developed primarily in the lands of northern Europe, but it didn't really catch on in the Iberian Peninsula. Now, I'm armed with all sorts of fascinating information, most of it obtained from Sara Súarez, an assistant county clerk who issues marriage licenses and who also happens to be Ranger's first cousin.

"Oh yes, Miss Plum, it's quite common," Sara assured me, "I've been married to Alberto Jimenez for fifteen years, but I still sign my name 'Sara Súarez'. There's a certain ring to it, don't you think? 'Sara Jimenez' - meh, not so much."

If Ranger hadn't told me that Sara Súarez was his first cousin, I never would have thought they were related at all. Where Ranger is a tall, dark and handsome Latino man, Sara appeared to be a short, fair-skinned White woman. Only her accent and her masses of unruly, dark curly hair betrayed any Cuban ancestry in her background.

"What about your children?" I asked.

"Ah, that's where it gets interesting for the English-speaking culture and school system here," she replied. "Our full last names are a combination of both the father's and the mother's surnames. So, my children's official surname is Jimenez Súarez. A lot of people drop their mother's maiden name from everyday use, though, because it seems easier. You know, like Carlos' surname is Mañoso Súarez - as you saw on his birth certificate - but he usually only uses Mañoso."

"The whole thing still sounds rather complicated," I said.

Sara continued to explain, "Well, since you and Carlos are from such different cultural backgrounds, _**your**_ children probably would just use Mañoso as their last name. Mañoso Plum does sound kind of cute, but it doesn't sound especially Spanish. Nevertheless, there's nothing that says you can't just use Mañoso as your last name, too. It's a personal decision. You have plenty of options."

I cut my eyes toward Ranger and saw that his facial expression looked odd. I wondered if he was thinking about us not having to worry about the configuration of our children's last names, especially since it was unlikely that he'd be able to father any more children. I reached out to pat his hand in a comforting gesture, but he stood up before I had a chance to do so.

"Thanks, Sara," he said abruptly. "We really appreciate everything you've done for us this morning." And he extended his hand to his cousin.

Sara stood up, too, stared at his hand for a second and then pulled him into a warm hug. She then spoke to him in Spanish, which, of course, I didn't understand. Ranger had warned me about Miami being a bilingual town and he wasn't kidding. Almost every sign and every document was in both English and Spanish. I decided that I was going to have to take language lessons - and soon.

**"Don't try to act all official with me, cousin,"** Sara said. **"I can see that I've said something to upset you, but I'm not going to call you on it here in front of your sweetheart. You _**will**_ enlighten me in the future - remember, I never forget anything."**

Ranger smirked at his cousin and, as he had promised me, replied to her in English, "We'll see."

**"Until then, I'll just thank you for the weekend rental; it was very kind of you to 'bribe' me in such a way. Alberto and I are really looking forward to a nice time on the beach. And from the looks of things here, you and Miss Plum will be having your own nice time here in town. Just remember, Carlito, save something for your actual honeymoon, alright?"** She continued to speak in Spanish, which really annoyed me, because I know I heard her say my name _**and**_ she used the nickname that Lester had told me Ranger hated.

"Thank you for the advice, Sara. I'll take it under advisement." Ranger replied in English. My hero!

Then Sara kissed Ranger on both sides of his face and, switching to English, she said in a very authoritative tone of voice, "When you go to the club - and I know you will - I want you to tell that idiot brother of mine to call me. I know he's making money hand over fist these days and I haven't forgotten that he still owes me for that dress he ruined. Val can't hide out behind Papí and Cat in South Beach forever. And when you get back to New Jersey, _**please **_remind Celia that my daughter still wants her daughter to come down for a visit next summer. We talked about it on the phone, but Celia should get back to me as soon as possible so that I can line up all the activities for the girls."

"Anything else?" Ranger asked very patiently. It was strange for me to see him tolerate being bossed around by this petite yet feisty woman with amazing blue-green eyes - even though I knew she was his cousin and that she was quite a bit older than he was.

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot," Sara added, "Would you please let Papí know that my mother-in-law will bring my boys by the club for their lessons tomorrow? Alberto's parents are staying with my children while my husband and I enjoy our get-away."

"No problem," Ranger replied, still unperturbed by Sara's bossiness. "I didn't know Papí was teaching at the club these days. Val didn't tell me that."

"Once a Mambo King, always a Mambo King." Sara shrugged and began to clear off her desk in preparation to leave for the day. "You know he won't allow the younger generations to forget their roots. I'll bet _**you**_haven't forgotten your lessons after all these years, eh, Carlito?"

Ranger just smiled politely and wished Sara well again as he led me out of her office.

"It was so nice to meet you, Sara," I said over my shoulder.

"Welcome to the family, Stephanie," her voice echoed down the hallway behind us. "And don't let Carlos push you around - he's just a man!"

As soon as we were in the elevator, I asked Ranger, "What's a 'Mambo King'?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "'Mambo King' is just an expression used to describe the men of a bygone era. They are the ones who made Latin music and Latin dances like the mambo and cha-cha popular back in the 1950s. Men like Pérez Prado, Xavier Cugat and yes, even Desi Arnaz."

"Wow! Did your grandfather play in one of those bands, like on 'I Love Lucy'?"

Shaking his head, Ranger sighed and continued to explain, "Papí had some minor success playing the tumbadoras, or conga drums, with his own band here in Miami, but most of the action was up in New York City at that time."

"Why didn't he move up there?"

"Abuela Blanca wouldn't consider moving anywhere north of Palm Beach and Papí needed more of a regular paycheck to support the family, so he branched out into the car business. People remembered his name from the clubs and they came out to buy their vehicles from him."

I considered this new information and then I asked, "Would you really 'push me around,' like Sara said?"

Ranger chuckled and shook his head again, "Sara was just messing with you, Babe. We've already established that I may have the size, but you have the power. You're Wonder Woman, remember? There are a lot of ... strong-willed women in my family and you're going to have to grow a thicker skin so you can stand up to them - or else they'll eat you alive."

"How about the men? Do you think I'll have any issues with your grandfather?"

"No. As for Papí Súarez, just be your charming self with him and you'll do just fine."

"You think I'm charming?"

"Babe."

Neither of us said anything else as the elevator finished its downward journey. We continued in silence as we walked through the parking garage. I couldn't tell what Ranger was thinking, but it was both terrifying and thrilling for me to think that in three days, it would be legal for us to become husband and wife. To say that I was overwhelmed was a gross understatement. My brain truly hadn't processed the fact that, after all his talk of not being available for a lasting relationship, now the Man of Mystery actually wanted to _**marry**_ me.

I was so mesmerized by the manila envelope in Ranger's hands - the envelope which held our new marriage license - I didn't realize that we had arrived at the car. Before I could say a word, Ranger spun me around and pinned me against the passenger door of the Mercedes. Then he kissed me until I didn't know which way was up. His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once and I'm pretty sure that mine were, too. Suddenly, Ranger stopped in mid-kiss and pushed himself away from me.

"Time to go, Babe." He growled and opened the car door for me. "Get in."

"What happened?" I asked, following his order. "You look upset."

"Damn security cameras!" he said and nodded toward the top of the nearest concrete pillar. "I just heard the camera behind us whirring into focus. Someone in this building's security control room decided to zoom in on us and I don't feel like giving them a free show."

"But security cameras are a mainstay of RangeMan's business," I said cheekily. "How can you not like a security camera?"

"Ask me that question again if we see our images broadcast on the evening news, Babe," he said sourly. "In _**my**_ company, discretion is very important. I don't own these particular cameras - or the people who control them - so I can't guarantee our privacy. Now, can we please leave this place?"

Great! I hadn't even been in Miami for twenty-four hours and I already was going to have an unwanted reputation. Something told me that Ranger's face was well-known around this town and I guessed mine would be now, too. I didn't hesitate to duck inside the Mercedes and shield my face from view.

"Okay, Batman," I said after we were buckled in and headed out of the garage, "Is this when we head off to the Batcave?"

A tiny, almost-smile played at the corner of his mouth. "I thought you'd want to have lunch first, Wonder Woman."

"Are we going to McDonald's?" I know I sounded too hopeful, but the thought of a burger and fries made my stomach rumble.

Ranger laughed and said, "No. We're meeting Silvio and his wife in Little Havana. There's a great bistro there and I think you'll like the Cuban-style sandwiches they serve."

"Do they serve dessert at this bistro?"

My comment earned me a raised eyebrow and he said, "Throwing in the towel already, Babe?"

"Well," I drew out the word and gave him a flirtatious smile, "Our 'quickie' on the couch happened a long time ago. And that little make-out session back there in the garage really triggered ... something."

"Something, huh?"

"Yes, and I can't really see us making anything happen in this fabulous, but small car. So ... unless you can figure out a creative way to keep your end of the bargain, I'll _**have**_ to eat dessert or else I won't be able to concentrate when I go shopping this afternoon."

Ranger stared at me for a moment before returning his focus to the heavy traffic and then his cell phone chirped. He glanced down at the message and it looked as though he was thinking about allowing the smile to return to his face. The Man of Mystery didn't say anything, but when we stopped at the next red light, he quickly tapped out his own message and sent it before we started to move again. He got an immediate response and I sensed a change in his demeanor. His continued silence made me slightly nervous.

"What?" I finally asked. "What were those messages about?"

"That was Gonzo," Ranger said as he pulled into a side neighborhood filled with modest, single-family homes. "Silvio asked him to relay the message that he and his wife are running late, so ... we've got a little bit of ... extra time."

"How much extra time?" I asked.

"Enough to get ... creative." He smiled at me and my pulse began to quicken.

He pulled into the driveway of a small yellow house and turned off the car's engine. So far, Miami seemed to be a city full of tall buildings and smaller homes, all jammed up next to each other. It was urban and suburban at the same time - sort of like Trenton, only much bigger and brighter. He tapped a few keys on his cell phone and then waited for a response to his message before he said, "This is one of the safe houses we maintain in town."

It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was headed, but I had to ask, "Aren't there security cameras here, too?"

"Yes, but they've just been temporarily disabled," he said and waved his cell phone at me. "I just told Gonzo that he can reactivate the system in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes, huh?" I gave him a sideways glance. "You honestly think it'll take that much time for you to get _**creative**_?"

"You honestly think it'll take me only _**one**_ time to kill off your donut cravings for the rest of the afternoon?"

The implications of Ranger's cheeky response momentarily stunned me, but I got over it quickly and said, "Good point." Then I followed him out of the car and into the house.

Once again, Ranger had proved that he was magic. Forty-five minutes later, we were back in the car and I no longer cared what donuts tasted like. Although our time in the safe house had been short, it also had been quite thorough. I was glad that we'd brought our suitcases in with us, because we definitely needed to freshen up afterward.

"Steph, I want you to understand something," Ranger said as we drove away from the safe house. "I'll gladly take your mind off dessert anytime you need me to do so, but _**this**_," and he tapped the all-important manila envelope for emphasis, "this is not just about the sex."

"I ... I know that." I said.

"I'm not so sure," he said. "The things I've said and done in the past, as well as just now, probably have ... confused you."

"I don't think I'm confused anymore, Ranger. I _**want**_ to be here with you. I ... I love you."

Omigod! I couldn't believe I actually said that on my own. It took me months - _**years **_- to be able to say those words to Joe and now they just seemed to tumble out of my mouth without any real hesitation whenever I said them to Ranger. And, no, wasn't just about the sex - although, I silently admitted to myself, the sex was quite a bonus and I smiled at the memory of our most recent times together.

Ranger caught me smiling and he grinned in return. "Sometimes it seems as though I've waited more then two lifetimes to make you mine," he said. "I've messed up more times than I care to think about, but now that you're here with me, I don't want to scare you away."

"Why would you even think that? I haven't run away from you so far and you've already told me some pretty scary stuff."

"I know, Babe, but I love you so much, it scares _**me,**_" he admitted. "I've never been this open with anybody before."

"Never?"

"_**Never**_. And I don't know if I can be this open ever again, but while we're waiting for the three days to pass, I want you to ask me all the questions you can think of."

"Will you really _**answer**_ my questions?" I'd been shut down by Ranger before and I knew he could sidestep inquiries like a pro.

"Babe, I promise to tell you as much as I can because I want you to know me - really, _**really**_ know me - before you decide whether or not you can spend the rest of your life with the man I am today. But I'm warning you again; you probably won't like everything you hear."

"Listen up, Batman," I said, "I've already figured out that there's a lot of dark and unpleasant things in your past, and those things are probably going to haunt you - _**and us**_ - far into the future. But guess what? I don't care! News flash: Now that you've ruined me for all other men, you're stuck with me."

"Nice to know, Babe," he nodded. "Nice to know."

I pulled out my cell phone and punched in my parents' number, "I think I should let my folks know that I'm okay."

"Your prerogative, Babe. _**I'd**_ leave it alone until we return."

And that's one of the major differences between Ranger and me. He'd prefer to handle his confrontations face-to-face. I'm perfectly happy to deal with unpleasant things via long-distance communications.

"Hello, Mom?" I said as I heard her voice on the line.

"Stephanie!" She exclaimed. "Where are you now? Is it true? Have you eloped with Ranger?"

I answered her questions in order, "Florida. Maybe. Not quite."

"How could you run away from Joe like this?" She demanded to know. "And what do mean by saying that you're 'not quite' married? Stephanie, I'm _**very**_ worried about you!"

"I'm fine, Mom. Please don't worry about me." Then I took a deep breath and spoke quickly, without letting her get a word in edgewise. "Mom, my life with Joe is past history and you need to get over it. I love _**Ranger**_ and he loves me. He _**really**_ wants to marry me, but we have to wait three more days before we can decide. I just called to let you know that everything is okay and that I'll see you when I get back. Give my love to Daddy and Grandma. Love you! Bye!" Then I disconnected and turned off the phone before she could call me back.

Ranger glanced over at the phone in my hand and said, "Proud of you, Babe."

I just shook my head and sat there in silence. It was difficult to comprehend the magnitude of what I'd just done. Finally, I put the phone back into my purse and sighed. Then I gazed up at the bright blue Florida sky and wondered if I'd ever taste my mother's pineapple upside down cake again in my lifetime.

"Ella can make all the cakes you'd ever want," Ranger said.

I grimaced. "Oops. Did I say that out loud?"

"I'm not joking, Babe," he said quietly. "Both Ella and Rosie are excellent cooks, as you well know. You can ask them to make anything and they'll bend over backward to give you what you want. I will, too, it's just that I can't have all the sweets."

"Really? All I have to do is put in a request for, say, pineapple upside down cake and it will appear?"

"Anytime you want."

I grinned at him and he winked back at me. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, I thought. So what if my mother stayed mad at me forever? I had wanted to break free for such a long time, but I just didn't know how to do it. With Ranger by my side, I was beginning to think that I might actually be able to make it happen.

When we walked into the busy bistro, Ranger had more than his usual half-smile on his face. His warm hand felt good at the small of my back as he gently guided me toward the far corner of the small dining room. We soon spotted Silvio, who was seated at a table in the corner. Next to him was a strikingly beautiful woman and they both stood up as we approached the table.

"Looking good, boss man!" Silvio greeted us with a wink and a knowing smile and began to make the introductions. "Juanita, you already know my boss, Carlos Mañoso, although we also still call him Ranger from back in our Army days. And this is Stephanie Plum. Stephanie, this is my wife, Juanita."

"It's such a pleasure to meet you Miss Plum," said Silvio's wife and she reached out to shake my hand. "Please call me Nita. Silvio has told me so many funny stories about you and your exploding cars. It sounds like you lead a very exciting life up in New Jersey. I hope you'll relax and enjoy your stay here in Florida."

Juanita had gorgeous, amber-brown eyes and shiny dark hair which hung straight down her back and ended just above her rump. Seriously, this woman's hair looked like the perfect tresses you only saw in shampoo commercials. I had to fight the sudden urge to run my fingers through it to see if it was really real.

"I'm so glad to meet you, too, Nita," I said, ignoring the comment about Silvio's stories. "And please call me Stephanie. I hear that congratulations are in order for you and Silvio and your new baby."

Blushing, she smiled at me and ran her free hand over the slight bulge of her abdomen. She was wearing a colorful floral-print t-shirt and a dark denim mini-skirt, but neither piece of clothing seemed to be maternity apparel. Surprisingly, I felt a tiny twinge of envy as I released Nita's hand, but I mentally shook it away and told myself that I just missed Rex.

"Thank you," she replied. "My clothes are beginning to get a little tight now, so I'm very happy to have an excuse to go shopping with you this afternoon."

"I'm really looking forward to our shopping trip, too," I said as I gestured to my skirt and blouse, which had become a bit wrinkled by now. "This is the dressiest outfit I have with me and Ranger says it's not fit for the Miami club scene."

Ranger held my chair for me and we all sat down. Naturally, Silvio had saved the back corner seat for Ranger, who now sat with his back to the wall. From this viewpoint, he could scan the whole dining room. Even though we were off-line, Ranger was always on-guard.

Nita grinned at me and said, "You know, he's right. Even though that skirt looks cute on you, not even the most lenient of bouncers would let you pass through the velvet ropes into the good clubs dressed so casually. It's just not the way we do things around here. You need something sexy, short and shiny. The more spandex and sequins, the better."

I cut my eyes toward Ranger and said, "It sounds like Ella should've raided _**Lula's **_closet before she packed my suitcase."

My comment earned me another half-smile from Ranger. Then the waiter arrived and filled our water glasses. He handed out the menus and spoke Spanish to everyone at the table. Silvio and Nita placed their orders right away, while Ranger took the time to explain the menu selections to me in English and I tried not to feel inferior.

Irrationally, I wished that my Italian grandparents had insisted that my father and his siblings had learned to speak the language of the old country instead of forcing English upon the household. Then maybe I might have been raised to be bilingual, too. I don't know why I didn't feel the same way about losing touch with my Hungarian roots. Oh, well.

"So, how did everything go this morning?" Silvio asked me. "Did you meet Gonzo and the guys on shift?"

I took a sip of my water and nodded, "Yes, everyone is very nice - just like the guys back in Trenton. It's kind of weird hearing people call Ranger Carlos, though."

"Oh, yeah," Silvio agreed, "Lots of us go back and forth all the time, but at least we know who we're talking about."

"Why is there any need to talk about me at all?" Ranger asked.

We all just stared at him for a moment before we burst out laughing. Even Juanita understood that Ranger was the topic of far more conversations than he probably wished to admit. This time, I did pat the back of his hand in a sympathetic gesture.

"Poor Ranger," I said in a sappy voice, "It's a wonder your ears haven't burned off from the numerous tall tales people tell about you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Tall tales?"

"You know - faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive," I said.

"Yeah, that's right," Silvio chimed in, "Able to leap tall buildings with a single bound and all that. You're practically a legend, Ranger. People tell stories."

"Wait! I thought those were Superman's traits," Nita said, looking at Silvio with a confused expression on her face. "You said everyone calls him _**Batman**_ because he always wears black like the Dark Knight."

Silvio and I laughed again and Ranger looked slightly annoyed, but then our sandwiches and drinks arrived and we all dug in. Ranger was right; I loved the tasty Cuban sandwich with its pressed bread and its ham and cheese and spicy filling. I devoured every last crumb. While we were eating, the men began to talk about Miami sports teams and Juanita started telling me about the places she recommended we visit that afternoon. I didn't recognize any of the store names, primarily because they were in Spanish, but I had already decided to trust this lovely woman's judgment and that certainly proved to be a winning strategy.

I ended up buying two flashy little dresses - and neither of them was black. One was dark red and other was royal blue. Lula would have been proud. Both dresses hugged my curves and showed off my assets very nicely, but they were quite different from each other. The red one had thin spaghetti straps and a matching sequin-covered bolero jacket, which Juanita assured me, was very much in style for the club scene. The blue dress was sleeveless and even though its jacket had a more traditional cut, the material was gauzy and see-through with a satiny, floral pattern woven into the fabric. It actually managed to look rather classy.

Although I had plenty of new underwear in my suitcase, I purchased a convertible Miracle bra which could be worn with or without the straps, as well as a couple of thongs to match my new dresses. I definitely didn't want any unsightly panty lines to show through the clingy dresses. Thankfully, I didn't need to bother with pantyhose; Juanita informed me that she'd never seen anyone other than tourists wearing the blasted things.

I did buy a few items of black clothing and some black sneakers so that, if for some reason I needed to 'blend in' at RangeMan of Miami, I'd be ready. I also bought a pair of shiny black, peep-toe sling-backs which could go with either one of my new dresses. The three-inch curved heels were a little lower and thicker than I normally wore, but they would be perfect for a night of dancing, especially since I was such a novice.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Nita said when I told her how nervous I was about dancing with Ranger. "I bet all the men in _**that**_ family can dance. In fact, my grandmother once told me that Ranger's grandfather used to be one of the best dancers in town."

A _**dancer**_? Ranger had said something about his grandfather playing the drums in a band, but I couldn't remember him talking about the man being a dancer, too. Curious now, I said, "I thought he was a car salesman."

"Oh, the Súarez Euro-Motorcars dealerships are still very successful throughout southern Florida, even in this economy," she said. "But I clearly remember my Abuela and her friends gossiping about how Ricky Súarez had been such a ladies' man back in the olden days, and now that his dragon-lady socialite wife was no longer alive to keep him on a short leash, he was sure to be back in action again real soon. I think all the abuelas have had a crush on Ricky Súarez at one point or another."

"Ricky Súarez?" I asked. I'd heard the man's full name, of course, but Ranger and his cousins seemed to refer to him as Papí Súarez, or just Papí. No wonder the Man of Mystery was so comfortable with his multitude of nicknames - apparently, it was a family tradition.

"Yes, Ricky Súarez - successful car salesman by day and hot Mambo King by night. He probably still gives lessons at one club or another - a lot of older men do that. I suppose Ranger just calls him Abuelo Ricky or something."

I shook my head in disagreement. "Abuelo Ricky? I don't think so. Ranger and his cousins all seem to call him Papí Súarez."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Nita exclaimed. "Silvio said I should try to teach you a little Spanish while we're out and about."

"Don't worry about that. After today, I think I understand greetings and farewells, now." I wanted to free her from any sense of obligation to teach me anything, but she plowed ahead.

"Okay, here we go," she began to explain, "'Abuelo' is the Spanish word for grandfather. If you change the 'o' to an 'a' then it becomes feminine - so, abuel_**a**_ means grandmother. And Papí is the same thing as Daddy. Some folks - like Ranger's family - use it as an endearment for their family's oldest living male relative. There, that's one lesson. Mission accomplished!"

I giggled at the proud smile on her face and said, "Thanks, Nita. I'm really trying to remember vocabulary words and phrases from my high school Spanish classes, but I wasn't a very good student. I'll probably have to invest in a set of those Berlitz language tapes. Everybody here speaks so fast and my brain is so slow."

"Don't worry," she said, "Half of the time people actually speak Spanglish - a mishmash of both languages. You'll be able to pick up the tone of most conversations in no time."

By the time we met up with Ranger and Silvio again, both Juanita and I had purchased a few more pieces of clothing, as well as some jewelry. Nita, who was an expert at finding the best bargains, declared our day to be a great success. She was even more persuasive than Connie - or at least it seemed that way when she haggled and argued in Spanish with every salesperson at every store we visited. When Ranger attempted to sneak a peek inside my shopping bags, Nita boldly snatched them away from him before he had a chance to see anything.

"Oh, no you don't!" she scolded him. "Silvio told me that you like to know every little detail about every little thing. Well, not this time! Stephanie should be allowed to have at least a few secrets so that she may surprise you from time to time. I guarantee that you'll be pleased with the end result."

Ranger merely lifted an eyebrow at her, but he didn't say anything. Once again, I was amazed by his acquiescence to the bossiness of a much-smaller woman. Maybe it was a Latino thing, I thought. After all, Nita had told me a bit more about Ranger's grandmother - mostly rumors, but even so, I definitely got the idea that his Abuela Blanca must have been a true force to reckon with during her heyday.

It was late afternoon when we bid farewell to Juanita and Silvio. I thanked them both for their wonderful hospitality and companionship and agreed to visit their home during a future visit. Then Ranger led me back to the car and we drove away from the lively streets of Little Havana.

"Where are we going now?" I asked.

"Remember this morning when Gonzo mentioned that my cousin, Val, was being uncooperative?"

"Is this the same Val that your other cousin, Sara, is mad at?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact he is. Val has a tendency to be ... difficult.

"Let me see if I have this straight." I said. "Val is Sara's brother and she thinks he's an idiot."

Ranger flashed me his equivalent of a mischievous smile. "Yes, but he's my age and he's neither straight nor is he an idiot."

I allowed myself to absorb what Ranger had said and then it dawned on me, "Okay, so Val is gay," I said. "I'm fine with that and, apparently, you and your other cousins who are business partners with Val are fine with his lifestyle, too. But the club in South Beach isn't a part of the RangeMan Corporation, right?"

"Right," Ranger affirmed my knowledge and continued, "Val is extremely talented. He's a fantastic dancer and a brilliant choreographer. He used to live and work in New York City, but he moved back to Florida when our grandmother became ill. The club is doing very well under Val's creative guidance. However, it's my equally-talented cousin, Cat, who keeps the books straight. She deals with the entire staff payroll and the inventory and everything else that pertains to money."

"Does Val cooperate with Cat?"

"Yes. She would crush his nuts if he didn't follow her orders."

"Ouch!" I winced at the thought. "That sounds very ... well, I'm beginning to think that actually sounds very normal for your family, from what I've seen and heard so far."

"What do you mean?"

"The ladies in your family do seem to be rather ... bossy. I'm not so sure I'll fit in with either the Mañoso or the Súarez women. I might be stubborn, but I don't think I'm bossy."

"Babe."

"Okay, okay. Just kidding!" Although, deep down inside, I was beginning to dread meeting my future mother-in-law. Omigod! Did I just think that? Future mother-in-law? _**Omigod!**_

"Anyway," Ranger said, "I need to talk to Val ASAP. Try to make him see how important his cooperation is to the success of tonight's mission."

"What_** is**_ tonight's mission anyway?" I asked. "I know we're off-line, but can you tell me about it?"

Ranger nodded. "Tommy Galarza. He was arrested on drug-trafficking charges down in Puerto Rico, but he skipped out on his bond last month. A federal agent spotted him up in Fort Lauderdale last week, but he slipped thought the cracks again. Now we think he's been traveling down the Florida coast as a passenger aboard his father's yacht."

"That must be nice for him."

"Yeah. The father, Roberto Galarza, Senior, is a record producer who likes to cruise to the various ports throughout the Caribbean and along the Florida coast and schmooze with the celebrities. Supposedly, Tommy and his older brother, Roberto Junior, are production assistants for the record label, but it seems like they mostly assist with parties. And there are always lots of ladies aboard their father's yacht."

"What makes you think that Tommy will be at your cousin's club tonight?"

Ranger glanced at me and asked, "Steph, what do you know about South Beach?"

I shrugged. "Not much. I know about the South Beach diet that Lula tried for a while, but she didn't like it."

That got a half-smile out of him and he said, "South Beach, or SoBe for short, is a place where the beautiful people go to see and to be seen. It's a popular backdrop for movie and TV directors and a lot of tourists walk around with their mouths hanging open. SoBe also is home to one of the country's most active and open alternative lifestyle communities. The weekend begins early over there and you're probably going to see lots of things that you've never seen before."

"Ah, I think I understand now. Is Tommy gay, too?" I asked.

"Yep. And he's very in tune with his feminine side. He's got wigs and outfits and all manner of ways of disguising himself, especially because Roberto Senior and Roberto Junior like to surround themselves with beautiful women. Personally, I think that's why Tommy keeps escaping the feds. He probably slips out among the mostly-female entourage."

"So ... is your club a ... a gay club?"

Ranger sighed and began to explain, "For most of the week, '¡Caliente!' is your basic dance club and everyone is welcome. Val and Cat teach Latin dance classes and host dance contests there throughout the year. They also sponsor and send the winners on to bigger and better contests elsewhere. However, every Friday night is 'Disco Night' and the club's 'All-Madonna, All Night Long' drag show has become extremely popular among the popular people."

"Are we going to go to the club tonight?"

"Yes, after dinner. Val opened the show on Labor Day weekend to stellar reviews and now everyone who's anyone stops by to see it whenever they're in town. Six weeks ago, Madonna came to see it for herself and declared it to be the most fun she'd had in months."

"That must be great for business, right?"

Ranger nodded. "The club stays packed. And there's a charity benefit concert in Miami Beach tomorrow night, so a lot of big name entertainers are already in town. Roberto Senior follows the talent and his sons tag along - I think Tommy sometimes attends these events in drag."

"I get it ... you think Tommy will come to see the show tonight, but he'll be in disguise. Why does Gonzo need Val for the distraction?"

"Do you remember the old saying, 'It takes one to know one.'?"

"Ah, you need Val to make a positive identification of Tommy."

"Yes."

"Does Val go about ... in drag, too? Like Sally Sweet?"

"Sometimes. Yes, only better."

"I see." Then I had another sudden realization. "So _**that's**_ why being around Sally and those other guys never seemed to bother you. And Hector, your electronics guy who doesn't speak much English - he's gay, too, right?"

"Right," Ranger said. "There you go Wonder Woman - you've got it all figured out."

"I always wondered why such a macho man like you didn't flinch or say anything rude when you were around guys like Sally. How long has your cousin known he was gay?"

"Val 'came out' to his parents down here in Florida during the same month I got caught stealing cars and the state of New Jersey sent me off to juvenile detention. Whereas my parents gave me the silent treatment and wouldn't visit me at the state facility, Val's parents tried to disown him and they actually threw him out of their house. Remember, we were only fourteen at the time."

"Whoa! That's pretty heavy."

Ranger shook his head at the memory. "It was a mess. Our whole family was in an uproar until Abuela Blanca took charge and insisted that both of us 'troublemakers' come to Coral Gables and live in her house. She vowed to straighten us out, so to speak."

"Wait - how are you and your cousins all related again?"

Ranger hesitated, and then he sighed and began to explain, "I'll write all this down for you later, but here's how it is: My grandparents, Ricardo Valentino Súarez the Third and María Blanca Johnson Moreno had eight children - Ricardo Valentino the Fourth, Mateo, Marcos, Lucas, Juan Pedro, Margarita, Diego and Gloria. "

"Wow! That's a lot of kids!"

"Yes, and all but two of them - my mother, Gloria, and her brother, Diego - still live in Florida. Sara and Val are the oldest and youngest children of my Tío Riva and there are four more girls in between them."

"Tío Riva?"

"It's a contraction of Ricardo and Valentino. Tío means 'uncle' in Spanish."

"Oh." I said and thought of something else, "A lot of those names sounded almost Biblical. Was your grandmother a religious person?"

"Very. She went to Mass every day that she was able to do so."

"Wow."

"She had a lot of people to pray for. I have a ton of cousins, Babe. Obviously, you won't get to meet them all during this trip, but I hope that you'll get to know the ones I'm closest to - Gonzo, Val, and Cat."

"I'd really like to do that, too."

Ranger smiled at me and continued, "Gonzo, is the third out of four boys born to my Tía Margarita and Cat is the oldest daughter of my Tío Juan Pedro. We're all the same age and graduated from high school together. Is that enough information about the family tree to hold you for a while?"

"Yes, and Ranger?"

"Mmm hmm?" He turned at the next intersection and we came to a stand-still in heavy traffic.

"Thank you for answering my questions."

"You're welcome, Babe. Keep 'em coming."

"Okay. After you got out of juvie, your parents sent you down here to stay with your grandparents, right?"

"Yes. Val was already living there when I moved in and we became more like brothers than cousins. We remained under Abuela's protection, as well as her strict household rules, until we finished high school."

"Were you the only two grandchildren living under her roof at that time?"

"Yes."

"That must have been quite a change for both of you," I said. "No more sisters watching and tattling on your every move. No more Sara bossing Val around. No more Celia bossing you around."

Ranger had stopped at a red light and now he stared at me until the car behind us honked for us to move. "How did you--?"

"I only have one older sister and that's more than enough for me. You just told me that Val has five older sisters," I said as we pulled forward with the traffic. "And Lester told me about life with _**your**_ four sisters."

"Lester has a big mouth."

"I took a wild guess about Sara Súarez, but I figure that she must be cut from the same fabric as your sister, Celia. Am I right?"

"Unfortunately, yes. You're really smart, you know that?"

"You think I'm smart?"

"Of course, Steph."

"Thanks, but you're no dummy, either. You and Val really must have turned your lives around during high school. After such a dismal start, _**you**_ made it into college and everything."

Ranger chuckled, "Oh, Val went to college, too. We had no other choice. Abuela Blanca made us work hard and Papí made us work even harder, but we survived their tough love and became better people for it. By then, Papí was a multi-millionaire, but he and Abuela didn't want me or Val to develop any sense of entitlement because of **_their_** social status. They forced us to clean pools in the neighborhood, we had a newspaper route, and we even served as cabana boys at their country club one summer. My grandparents wanted us to know how to do hard work for ourselves so that we'd have a better understanding of and a deeper appreciation for the people who would eventually work for us."

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow," Ranger's voice sounded cynical. "Val and I weren't allowed to request any food selections from Abuela's kitchen until we had worked as kitchen helpers for a few months. We couldn't ask anything of Abuela's household staff until we had cleaned the entire house from top to bottom and could pass her white-glove inspection for several months in a row. Abuela was tougher than any drill sergeant who ever yelled in my face or dropped me for push-ups and yet, she did everything with a soft touch and a gentle voice."

"It sounds like you really miss her."

"I do. She was a great lady. I wish you could have met her."

"You said her name was Blanca _**Johnson**_ Moreno. That doesn't sound fully Spanish."

"You caught that, huh?" Ranger grinned at me. "My grandmother's father was an American executive for one of the largest fruit processing companies on the island of Cuba. This was way before any civil unrest or civil rights on the island. Mixed marriages weren't uncommon, but marriages between high-powered White men and the daughters of humble fruit pickers weren't exactly looked upon favorably."

"Did your grandmother grow up among the wealthy White landowners of Cuba?"

"Yes, and she fared well because of her light-toned skin and blue eyes. Her older brother, who was much darker, did not have such an easy life. In fact, he was an angry and bitter man by all accounts and he died during an uprising against the Cuban government. My grandmother always told us stories about him as a caution against violence and choosing the 'wrong' side in a fight."

"Is that the reason she was upset when your mother eloped with your father?"

"Part of it. Abuela Blanca loved all of her family, but she was an elitist. She was very judgmental and if you weren't from the 'right' social class, she probably wouldn't give you the time of day. She couldn't stand my father, no matter how well-respected he was among those who knew cars. Nevertheless, she loved me and Val fiercely and she defended us whenever anyone would try to insult us for whatever reason."

"Did she ever allow you boys to have fun?"

Ranger laughed. "She said that we'd had more than enough fun before we came to live with her. Our only escapes from the house were to learn how to do the traditional dances from Papí at one of the clubs and to run on the track team."

"So ... you ran and you ... _**danced**_?"

"Oh yes, and once we knew how to dance well, Abuela Blanca also forced us to escort many young ladies to their quinceañero celebrations, homecoming dances, high school proms and other special occasions. I actually enjoyed doing that quite a bit."

"That's no surprise," I said dryly. "What about Val - did he enjoy going to those dances, too."

"No. As you can imagine, escorting pretty young ladies anywhere was practically torture for him. Val's sexual orientation didn't matter to Abuela one bit, though; she declared that dancing was dancing and it was our responsibility as young men to escort young ladies to their special events so that they wouldn't feel unwanted."

"That's quite a philosophy."

"As soon as Val proved to Abuela that he was a much better actor than a sprinter, he abandoned me on the track team and switched over to the drama club. That's where he really was set free."

"Val's got dramatic talent, huh?"

"He actually earned his Fine Arts degree from the University of Miami. Papí and Abuela went to see every show my cousin performed in while he was an undergrad. I, on the other hand, was a different story. My grandparents were very disappointed in me when I chose to go back to New Jersey for college. They felt that so many of my earlier troubles stemmed from what they saw as a lower-class environment up north. And when I left school to join the Army and got Rachel pregnant, well ... I already told you about all that."

"How long did it take for your parents to forgive you?"

Ranger sighed. "A while. I was at least halfway through my junior year in high school before I saw them again. That was when Abuela informed them that I really wanted to attend Rutgers."

"Why did it take so long?"

"I come from two very proud, very successful immigrant families, Steph. Can you imagine the embarrassment my criminal behavior caused? There I was - the grandson of a respected automobile dealer and the son of one of the best mechanics on the East Coast - and I was stealing cars and messing around with gangs. Even though my parents made a modest living and they always made sure I had what I needed, I wanted more than what they could give me. I was a thug-in-the-making and no one could understand why."

"Do _**you**_ know why you did those things?" I asked.

"Boredom, stupidity, disrespect - pick one. I was out of control and I didn't care."

Then I had another sudden flash of insight and asked, "Do you think that part of your bad attitude could have been caused by your bossy sisters? I mean, weren't you tired of _**everyone**_ around your house telling you what to do all the time?"

Ranger shrugged. "Maybe. Probably. Sure." Then he shook his head and said, "Damn, Babe! I need to train you to do some PsyOps missions, too."

"What's that?"

"Never mind," he shook his head again. "It's just that ... well ... you really have an uncanny ability to figure out things about people. That's probably why you're so good at catching the bad guys."

"I am?"

"Well, not necessarily the _**physical**_ act of catching them - yet - but you're able to work out the clues so that you can solve the mysteries of who, what and where the bad guys are."

"You really think I do all that?"

"Absolutely, Babe. I know you think that it's mostly dumb luck, and some of it probably _**is**_ luck, but there's nothing dumb about it. You have real skills, and that's why you and I are going to be great together as partners. In fact, with a little extra training for you, we'll be the best in the business."

I tilted my head to look at him and asked, "So, Batman, do I get to be Robin, now?"

He laughed aloud and replied, "No, Babe. You'll always be Wonder Woman to me - and don't you forget it!"

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A/N: Phew! It took me a while, but I finally figured out my version of Ranger's extensive family tree so that I could keep all the names and profiles straight for the original characters I've created along the way. At some point in the future, I'll put together an appendix to spell everything out for you. Right now, I'm officially snowed-in and I've been writing all day. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take me as long to finish, especially since I can't go anywhere. I apologize for falling behind on answering your wonderful reviews, but please don't let that hinder you from letting me know what you think about this chapter. Thanks! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: I must apologize for falling behind on replying to your wonderful review - again - but here's the reason why: Yes, it's another super-long chapter and I'm updating sooner than anticipated! FYI, I live in Northern Virginia and the whole region been snowed in for the past few days; therefore, I've been writing and writing and writing some more. This time, I'm doing something a little different by switching POVs back and forth between Ranger and Stephanie, as well as adding in a section from Papí Súarez. At first I tried to write this in only one person's POV, but there was so much going on here that it just wasn't working for me. As soon as I allowed everyone to speak for themselves, then the chapter practically wrote itself. Remember, the sentences between the double asterisks are actually meant to be in Spanish. Stephanie hears the words, of course, but she can't understand them yet. Someday, she might be able to figure out what everyone is saying, but not in this chapter. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger was in jeans and a washed out, loose-fitting grey sleeveless Big Dog T-shirt. He looked comfortable in the clothes and relaxed in my apartment. His hair was growing out, curling around his ears and falling across his forehead. It was a younger, softer look for him and it was disconcerting. I didn't know this Ranger.

_"Who are you?" I asked him._

_"I'm always the same person," he said. "Don't judge me by my clothes."_

_Twelve Sharp_

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Chapter 16: Mambo Kings and Disco Queens

**Stephanie's POV**

Life is funny. _**My**_ life is ridiculous. My former boyfriend once told me that my life is like one of those reality shows where dangerous and stupid things happen to the contestants. He also said that my life reminded him of a TV sitcom, like the old 'I Love Lucy' show. And now, oddly enough, it seems as though my life could become frighteningly similar to Lucy Ricardo's wacky TV existence.

For the past few years, I've been involved with two very hot, very complex men. I think I've been infatuated with Joe Morelli since I was about six years old. I love him deeply, in a familiar and comfortable way. However, a few years ago, I fell into lust which somehow developed into love with Carlos Mañoso, who is also known by the street name of Ranger, in a completely different and perplexing way. Of course, being a commitment-phobe, I never could choose between them - until this past week.

Joe and I lived together at various times and we were semi-engaged to each other a few times, but he finally broke up with me for good. It turns out that he's not so complex after all; he loves his family, he loves his dog and he loves me. He's an Italian-American cop with a big libido and an even bigger heart. I'm afraid that I've temporarily broken that heart by not being able to be the 'normal' kind of girlfriend who could become a 'normal' kind of wife to him.

Although both Joe and I are products of the Burg, our outlooks on life couldn't be more different. He definitely wants to build the next generation of his family there in the familiar comfort of the house he inherited from his Aunt Rose. Most days, I'm not even sure I want to have a family. A while ago, it became very clear that Joe needs to be able to come home to a sanctuary of peace and sanity to balance out the chaos and filth that he sees on a daily basis. Unfortunately, by the end of our time together, I think we both realized that _**I **_couldn't provide that sanctuary for him.

So, I'm currently in Florida with Ranger and, against all odds, we're probably going to get married in three days. It's a wacky story as to how I got here, but that's the way my life goes whenever I'm involved with the Man of Mystery. We've always had a wild and passionate, crazy kind of love - and I've finally decided that _**that's**_ what I really want for the rest of my life. I'll always care about Joe, but I know we'd never have made it in the long run. Of course, there's no way for me to accurately predict what will happen while I'm with Ranger, but I know it'll be an adventure no matter what.

Right now, though, things weren't feeling very adventurous. Despite the fact that I was enjoying the fabulous view of the clear Florida sky through the open sunroof of Ranger's Mercedes E550 Coupe, I was becoming increasingly bored and restless as we inched along in heavy traffic. I'm not a very patient person and I didn't know exactly where Ranger was taking me, but I wanted to be there _**now**_. Getting bogged down in Miami's version of rush-hour traffic was not the way I wanted to spend my off-line time.

Ranger surprised me, though, when he suddenly grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me over the console to kiss him. After he released me and I settled back into my seat, I still could taste him on lips and I absentmindedly touched them with my fingertips. He glanced over at me and grinned.

"What was that for?" I asked him.

"You seemed bored," he replied. "I was just trying to ... spice things up for you."

"Well, mission accomplished," I said. "My heart's definitely beating faster now. How much longer will it take us to get to the club?"

"In this traffic, probably another thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes!" I exclaimed. "Aren't there any shortcuts you can take?"

"Sorry, Babe. There are only a few ways to get to South Beach from here and they're all bridges over the water. We'll be on the Mac Arthur Causeway soon enough and then you'll have lots of interesting things to look at."

He returned his focus to the car in front of us, which as far as I could tell, hadn't moved more than twenty feet in the past five minutes. I was tempted to check the messages on my cell phone, but decided against it. There was no point in me listening to yet another round of Stephanie bashing, whining or complaining. As soon as the light turned green, Ranger whipped the car around the next corner and I could see water in the distance.

"Is that ... is that the ocean?" I asked excitedly.

"No, that's Biscayne Bay," he replied. "It separates this part of town from Miami Beach and South Beach. Once we cross over the bay and drive across to the other side of the city, you'll be able to see the ocean."

"Oh! It's so beautiful!" I exclaimed as I gazed out at the blue-green water and rows and rows of boats. There were big cruise ships and cargo ships docked at what looked like a huge Port Authority facility to our right. Yachts and other pleasure boats skipped along the waterway to the left of the causeway.

As soon as we passed through the area Ranger identified as South Pointe and turned north onto Ocean Drive, the traffic came to an even slower crawl. Now the streets were jammed with both cars and people. Correction: semi-clad people. There were lots of bikini and halter tops and thong bathing suits - on both the women and the men. Never in my life had I seen so much exposed flesh - not even in Atlantic City. My eyes might never recover from the spectacle of it all.

"So ... this is South Beach."

"You sound less than impressed."

"The ocean is fabulous, but these people need to put some clothes on!" I complained as a man wearing only a purple thong roller-bladed past our car. "Jeez! From what you and Juanita told me, I thought there'd be a bit more ... glamour here."

"Oh, this is nothing," Ranger waved his hand in the air, clearly amused by my disdain. "People are just coming in from the beaches at this hour. Soon enough, a lot of them will disappear until after suppertime and then it'll be crazy until after the clubs close."

"You mean to tell me that _**this**_ isn't crazy?"

"Not even close, Babe." And he drove around into a small back street and parked the car. "Here we are. This is the club - well, the back door anyway.

As we approached the bright, hot pink door, I could hear the sounds of Latin music coming from inside the bright orange building. Ranger opened the door and we could see that a dance class was ongoing in what appeared to be a small studio with wooden floors and mirrored walls. Four couples were standing together watching a fifth couple - obviously the dance instructors - as they gyrated and twirled across the room. An older gentleman sat on a stool off to the side, pounding out a solid rhythm for the couples to hear.

In just a few moments I was mesmerized by the dance instructors. Their bodies moved so well together - no hesitations, no collisions, and no trampled toes. It didn't hurt that they were two of the most gorgeous people I'd ever seen, either.

The female dance instructor was tall and graceful, with light brown skin and bleached-blonde hair. The man was slightly taller than the woman, and he had dark, silky hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was lean and muscular, and his smooth face reminded me of ... Ranger's face. The major differences were that this man had much fairer skin and intriguing blue-green eyes.

Suddenly, the drumming stopped and all of the couples glanced around in mild confusion. The older man had removed the drum's strap from around his chest and was hurrying across the room toward us. He had short, wavy silver hair, shiny eyes that looked almost black and a big, warm smile. I knew instantly that this must be Ranger's grandfather.

"Carlos!" exclaimed the man and he wrapped his arms, which when seen up close were surprisingly muscular, and gave Ranger a big bear hug. "What a nice surprise! I didn't think we'd see you until dinner tonight."

"I'm sorry to intrude like this," Ranger said. "Pedro didn't say anything about you teaching classes on Friday afternoons. I thought everyone would be resting up for tonight's show."

"Business is so good that your cousins had to squeeze in this class to accommodate the tourist's high demand for dance lessons," Ranger's grandfather explained as he released him. "It's actually not so bad. At the completion of each session, Cat and Val give out tickets for free drinks and their Friday students always return to see the show."

The female dance instructor had told the class to take a five-minute break and then she and her dance partner also hurried over to us. She, too, hugged Ranger tightly and then the male instructor wrapped his arms around the two of them. I just stood there feeling rather awkward.

Ranger finally disentangled himself and introduced everyone, "Papí, Cat, Val, this is Stephanie Plum. Stephanie, this is my grandfather, Ricardo Valentino Suarez the Third and my cousins, Cátarina Súarez, and--"

"Ricardo Valentino Súarez the _**Fifth**_," Val interrupted Ranger and introduced himself to me, "And as it stands now, that horrid name will end with me." Then he quickly sidestepped a swat on the behind from his grandfather, danced around until he was standing behind Ranger and spoke over his shoulder. "Welcome to '¡Caliente!' - where the Mambo Kings and the Disco Queens bump booties on the _**hot**_ dance floor." Then he did a little hip gyration and I felt a twinge in my lower abdomen. Gay or not, Ranger's cousin was hot.

Their grandfather barked something at Val in Spanish. **"Behave! Can't you see that this is _**the**_ _**one**_? It has taken Carlos two lifetimes to return and now he has finally brought his woman to meet us, but here you are acting like a fool."** To me, he turned and said in a very smooth tone of voice, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Plum. Please forgive the antics of my grandson, Valentino. He is just like a ... how do you say? A comedian." Then he extended his hand to shake mine.

"It's good to meet you, too, Mister Súarez," I replied.

"Please, call me Papí. Everyone does. We are _**not**_ related to that charlatan of a former mayor, Xavier, and _**Mister**_ Súarez sounds so ... so stuffy. And we are not a stuffy family, right, Carlos?"

Ranger didn't reply and I know I began to blush when his grandfather lifted my hand to his mustachioed lips and lightly kissed the back of it. Ladies man indeed! Now I knew where Ranger - and his cousin, Val - got 'it' from. Even at his age, which I placed near eighty, Papí Súarez practically oozed testosterone and I smiled inwardly at the thought of how much Grandma Mazur would misbehave in this man's presence.

Ranger's female cousin stepped forward and extended her hand next, "I'm Cátarina, but please call me Cat," she said as we shook hands. "It's so good to finally meet Carlos' ... _**friend**_. We knew you were out there somewhere, but our cousin is so secretive."

I smiled at her and when I looked directly into her face, I could see a strong resemblance between her and Ranger, too. If my Man of Mystery had been born a woman - and a blonde - he probably would look very much like Cat. Interestingly, neither Ranger nor his two cousins seemed to resemble their grandfather in any physical way. This made me more curious than ever to find out more about their Abuela Blanca.

Val had come out from his hiding place behind Ranger and now extended his hand in greeting, "Pardon my earlier ... exuberance." He made a funny face at his grandfather and turned to me again, "And please, call me Val. Everyone does. Valentino sounds so ... so _**macho**_. And I'm definitely _**not **_macho, right Carlos?"

Once again, Ranger didn't reply, but his lips quirked into a half-smile at Val's obvious parody of his grandfather's earlier speech. Cat rolled her eyes and Papí Súarez glared at his mischievous grandson. In that instant, I fell in love with all of them. It was almost funny to think that Ranger had the nerve to call _**my**_ family crazy.

Grinning at Val, I said, "Hello, Val. As Carlos said, I'm Stephanie Plum."

"Yes, you _**are **_- a plum, that is," Val remarked flirtatiously. Then he winked at me and said something to Ranger in Spanish, **"And she must be a sweet plum, too, since she's held your attention for more than a hot minute, cousin."**

This time, Ranger stepped away from his cheeky cousin, simultaneously pushing him toward Cat and growled, "And you wonder why I don't visit more often. I thought you were making progress at taming him, Cat."

"_**You**_ try taming him," she flung back at Ranger. "You're practically the only person he's afraid of these days. He's been _**impossible **_ever since the writers from Lonely Planet and Frommer's listed our club favorably in their travel guides and gave Val's shows three stars. And after Madonna gushed about the latest show, well ... let's just say it's amazing that our popular cousin can fit his swollen melon-head through the door. Even Pedro can't get it through this idiot's thick, thick skull that such notoriety comes at a cost. Look at us! We should be resting up for tonight's show right now; but instead, we're teaching another dance class. It's insane!"

"I hear the crowds have been insane, too."

"Yes, but it's nice to finally be making enough money to be considered successful," she admitted. "Oh, and by the way, thank you for all the cool upgrades in our security systems. The video feeds to the monitors are fabulous. Now our bouncers can spot trouble much easier and fix things before they get out of control."

Ranger shrugged and said, "Hey, it's Gonzo's and my investment, too."

"Yes, but _**you**_ hardly ever come here, Carlos," Val scolded, "In fact, you haven't been back since we opened - and that was two years ago!"

The student couples had started to file back into the dance studio and Cat went over to speak with them. A look of triumph came over her face as she rifled through her CD collection, and then she brandished a Madonna recording in her hand. When she made eye contact with Ranger, he barely shook his head, but she crooked her finger at him and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly in defeat. Before I could ask him what was going on, Cat clapped her hands to get everyone's attention and addressed the entire room.

"I have a special treat for everyone," she said brightly. "It's been a very long time since we danced together and he's probably a little rusty, but my cousin, Carlos, from New York City--"

"Newark, New Jersey," Ranger corrected in a flat tone of voice.

"What_**ever**_," Cat said dismissively and then she continued to address her students. "Isn't he _**delicious**_? Sorry, ladies, but I think he's taken. Anyway, Carlos is going to help me show you how to take a couple of regular disco-type songs and dance to them with some of the Latin moves Val and I have been teaching you this afternoon. Then we'll switch back to our familiar dance music and finish up our lesson for today, okay?" The four student couples enthusiastically applauded their agreement.

Val added, "You'll be surprised by what you can do with the moves we've taught you already. And your friends back home will be so jealous when they see you dancing circles around them."

"Alright," Cat said, "Papí will beat out the various rhythms - basic disco, mambo, cha-cha, salsa and merengue - so that you can keep up. Then we'll invite you all out onto the floor to try what Carlos and I are doing. Val will observe and make the rounds, offering suggestions and tips as we go along."

"Oh! And tonight, when you _**return**_ to 'Caliente!' to use your _**free**_ drink tickets, we expect to see you all out on the dance floor using everything you've learned here with us today. Remember, the door opens at eleven, the floor show starts at midnight, and from two until dawn, it's _**party on!**_" Val said as Cat and Ranger took their position in the center of the mirrored room.

Then Val hit the 'Play' button on the boom box and I recognized the opening tick-tick-tick sounds and retooled ABBA riff of 'Gimme, Gimme, Gimme' in Madonna's song 'Hung Up'. Cat instructed the class to listen to the typical 1-2-3-4 disco rhythm as she and Ranger began to dance to the beat. What I witnessed next was anything but typical for the man I knew as a total badass.

Despite his protests of being out of practice, Ranger and Cat looked as though they had been dance partners for ages. Papí Súarez beat out a different rhythm on his conga drums every time Cat called out for a change in the type of dance steps and all I could do was stand there on the sidelines and watch in amazement. Their hips swiveled and their bodies gyrated to the beat as they twirled each other across the dance floor and I never would have guessed that Ranger could move the way he did. Once again, I was totally flummoxed by this version of the Man of Mystery.

Of course, I knew it was just a harmless dance demonstration, but if I hadn't known that the beautiful blonde was Ranger's cousin, I would have been insanely jealous. Cat and Ranger's dance moves were some of the most sensual actions I'd ever seen outside of a bedroom. I could feel my own temperature rising every time they seemed to be plastered together in a sexy posture. Sadly, I knew I'd _**never **_be able to move the way they did.

The student couples joined Cat and Ranger on the dance floor and they attempted to copy their sultry moves. Then Val came from behind me, grabbed my hand and pulled me forward and suddenly we were out on the dance floor with all the other people. Needless to say, I was mortified. I frantically looked around for Ranger, because I needed a rescue - ASAP. I didn't want to make a complete fool of myself in front of all these strangers.

At first, Val held my arms in the open stance which I vaguely remembered from my dance lessons with Dickie, but that changed quickly as he began to twirl me around, alternately flinging me away from him and then pulling me back in to dance close to him again. I tried to break free more than a few times, but Val kept a firm grip on my hands.

I don't know how it happened, but suddenly I was in Ranger's strong and familiar arms. However, instead of rescuing me from the dance floor, he held me captive on it. After Madonna's songs 'Music' and 'Celebration' finished playing, Val changed the CD and Latin music blasted throughout the room again. Papí was totally engrossed in drumming out the various dance step rhythms as Cat continued to observe and critique the students along with Val. I continued to feel extremely self-conscious.

"Ranger, _**please**_. Let's stop before I trip over my feet," I softly pleaded with him, "You _**know**_ I can't dance."

"Seems to me you're doing just fine, Babe," he said as he twirled me out and then pulled me back into a close embrace, his feet and hips never breaking with the rhythm. "Remember? I told you, the female dancer is only as good as her male dance partner. And I happen to be an okay dancer, don't you think?"

"Um ... yes," I nodded and my eyes glazed over as Ranger's hands framed my hips and he guided them to sway to the rhythm of a dance called the 'merengue'.

The feel of Ranger's hard body so close to mine as we danced was almost more than I could handle. I never would have thought that my traitorous hips could move in such a manner. It was difficult for me to believe that I hadn't slipped and fallen on my ass already, but when I noticed our reflections in the mirrors, I realized that Ranger knew how to make any woman - even klutzy me - look good on the dance floor.

Ranger leaned in close to my ear and said, "I also told you that I have plans for your ass, so stop worrying about falling down on it. Relax and be free, Babe. Let yourself enjoy the dance."

"This isn't dancing, Carlos. This is ... this is vertical foreplay."

"If you say so." Then he twirled me out and brought me back to him, this time with his chest pressed close to my back and one of his arms wrapped around the front my waist as our hips moved together in a side-to-side motion.

Waves of intense desire made my knees feel weak. "Omigod, Carlos! I don't ...I don't think I can handle ... much more ... of this."

"Good to know, Babe." And he swung me around, twirling me under his arm until we faced each other again.

"Ranger, I'm totally serious! What if another man else asks me to dance with him? I can't dance like _**this **_with anybody else!"

"Also good to know. I'll have you all to myself."

"That's it. I can't go dancing tonight." I declared. "I'm not ready for this."

It was difficult to decide which position was worse - dancing back-to-front like nested spoons or dancing face-to-face, pressed close to each other's chests. Either way, I was barely able to control the urge to drag Ranger down to the floor and take him in front of everyone. I could only imagine what might happen after I had consumed a few tropical cocktails later on tonight.

"Stop worrying so much, Steph. You'll be fine. Trust me; I'll send out so many 'stay-away-from-my-woman' vibes that no one, not even Val, will even attempt to ask you to dance, okay?"

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Thankfully, the music stopped right after Ranger finished speaking. I needed to cool off ASAP. My body was so turned on; I thought I'd burst into flames if I stayed in close physical contact with Ranger any longer. I stepped away from him to find something to drink while Cat and Val's students gathered around to wrap up their instruction. It was a relief when I finally noticed the water cooler in the far corner of the studio, near Papí Súarez. In moments, I was accepting a cup of the cold, refreshing liquid from the older man's warm hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Papí's POV**

I am a blessed man. I grew up in one of the most beautiful cities on one of the most beautiful islands in the world. I married the woman of my dreams and we had over fifty wonderful years together before she succumbed to illness and went on to her heavenly reward. Blanca and I and all eight of our children immigrated to the United States and we built a successful life here. All of my children are married now and have children of their own and most of them are even grandparents themselves.

Today is a day I wish my beautiful Blanca could have lived to see. Today is the day that our grandson, Ricardo Carlos, the one who was always her favorite - the youngest child of the daughter whose unintentional betrayal hurt her the most - returned to the dance. Today, Carlos came into the club's studio and danced with his cousin, Cátarina. It was fabulous. It was magical. And I know why he has returned.

Today, Carlos had with him the woman who brought him back to the dance. She probably doesn't even realize the magnitude of her influence on my grandson. There's no mistaking that this woman, Stephanie Plum, has rekindled in Carlos something that we all thought was gone forever. My Blanca would have loved to see that her Carlos finally had found his soul-mate.

When I witnessed Carlos and Stephanie dancing together, it became painfully obvious that this was the first time he had ever done such a thing with her. Oh, I could tell that they already had been physically intimate with each other - only a blind man wouldn't have been able to see that. However, there was a tremendous amount of passion and potential between them as he taught her body to move in unison with his. I know they will be good for each other and there is no doubt in my mind that Stephanie is the woman Carlos will marry for love and for all time.

You see, Carlos was married once before, when he took responsibility for getting a young college girl pregnant. It broke my Blanca's heart, though, when they divorced as soon as their little daughter, Julie, was born. My headstrong grandson declared that he would not allow himself to be distracted from his military duties and we were certain that he had abandoned Miami and our side of his family, as well as the dance, forever.

The only good that came from that terrible time in our lives was that it brought our daughter - Carlos' mother - Gloria, back to us. It had taken two decades to get over the bitterness caused when Gloria eloped with a man Blanca did not personally hand-pick for her. Nothing I had ever tried over the years had been able to accomplish such a feat. As my women shared their grief over their son and grandson's hard-heartedness, they were able to reconcile their past differences.

I remember watching my wife and our youngest child embracing each other and crying over what they felt were their greatest failures with Carlos. My daughter, Gloria, declared that she had given birth to some of the most selfish children on the face of the earth and she was glad that her older son, Nestor, took after his father and not her. She apologized to her mother for being selfish, too, and vowed to change her ways. My Blanca also apologized to our Gloria for withholding her love and blessings ever since she had married the auto mechanic, Enrique Mañoso. It was both heartwarming and heartbreaking to see.

Over the years since then, especially after Blanca really began to suffer from her diabetes, my somewhat fractured family mended in ways none of us could have foreseen. I retired and sold off my car dealerships out west; this allowed my sons who managed them to move back to Florida and be near their mother again. Valentino, who had been dancing in shows up in New York, returned to the house in Coral Gables to help care for his beloved grandmother. When it became clear that Blanca's body was failing her, Carlos barely made it back from being out of the country to receive a final blessing from her before she passed away.

Recently, Carlos returned to Miami to establish a branch of his security business here in town. He hired his cousin Pedro as his chief assistant, and he gave other relatives and friends good jobs within his organization. Then he and Pedro and Valentino and Cátarina went into business together to form this dance club, which has become quite successful in a short amount of time. I am proud of all my children and grandchildren, but these four always were Blanca's favorites and I enjoy seeing them so happy together.

While my grandchildren wrapped up their dance class, I positioned myself by the water cooler so that I would have a chance to speak privately with the intriguing Stephanie Plum. There had been rumors of a special woman in Carlos' life, especially during the time when his daughter was kidnapped. Now that I had seen Miss Plum with my own eyes, I knew what I needed to do to help my grandson hold on to his sweetheart.

"You and Carlos look very good together," I said to the lovely Stephanie as I handed her a cup of water from the water cooler.

"Oh, I really can't dance," she said. "I'm sure it was just Carlos making me look good out there."

Stephanie's quick smile and the pink blush on her face were quite alluring and she had such expressive blue eyes. For a fleeting moment, she reminded me of Blanca and I found myself somewhat attracted to Carlos' woman. Ah, well, there are very few women to whom I'm not attracted; it's just that none of them are my Blanca. Dios! I miss her so much!

"Even an old man like me can see that you and my grandson are in love," I said. "You two seem to be very comfortable together. Has Carlos asked for your hand in marriage yet?"

I could see that I had startled her with my question, but to her credit she didn't actually flinch. First, she finished drinking her water and she took a moment to smooth down her skirt. Then she looked directly into my eyes and answered me quite confidently.

"It's complicated, sir, but--" she began.

"Papí. Please call me Papí." I had interrupted her just to see if I could fluster her, but she was strong. Good! Carlos needed a strong woman in his life.

"Papí, then," she nodded and continued, obviously determined to explain their situation to me. "In answer to your exact question, I must admit that your grandson has not yet formally proposed to me. In his defense, though, Carlos has asked me to wait for him to retrieve a special ring before he _**really**_ asks me to marry him."

"A special ring?" Ah, now I knew what Carlos was doing here in South Beach. I took Stephanie's empty cup and refilled it for her.

"Yes," she said and she accepted the refilled cup. "Carlos and I did go to the courthouse today and we actually signed the marriage license. However, I'm sure you know that because Carlos is a Florida resident, there is a three-day waiting period before we can get married, anyway."

"I am aware of the law," I said. "While you were at the courthouse, did you meet my granddaughter, Sara? She's an assistant county clerk there."

Stephanie nodded. "She's Val's sister, right?

"Yes, but other than their parents, the only things those two have in common are their distinctive blue-green eyes, which were a genetic gift passed down to them from my late wife."

"I was wondering about their eyes; their color seems so ... extraordinary," she admitted. "Anyway, Sara was very helpful. She prepared our paperwork right away. It only took twenty minutes, at most."

"Good," I nodded. "Though I'm rather surprised that my oldest granddaughter didn't call me to tell me what she had done today. Usually, Sara is one of my best sources of information. I have to have juicy gossip to share with my friends when I play dominoes, you know." I winked at her for emphasis and Stephanie blinked in surprise. I hoped she didn't think I was flirting with her.

"Sorry about that," she said and she smiled at me as though she knew I knew she wasn't really sorry at all. "I think Sara's silence might have something to do with the fact that Carlos is sending her and her husband off for a weekend get-away. Oh yes, and Carlos is supposed to let you know that Sara's mother-in-law will bring her sons to you for their lessons tomorrow."

"That's good to know," I replied, "I will be ready for them, as usual."

"I'm curious, Papí," she said, "Exactly what kind of lessons do you teach?"

"The tumbadora - the conga drum. And sometimes dancing, when my old bones allow me to do so," I explained. "I feel it is my duty to make sure that my grandsons and their sons learn to play the rhythms and dance the dances of our heritage. I taught Carlos when he lived here and I hope I'll live long enough to teach his sons - that's assuming he'll bring them to me. If not, then I hope he'll use what he remembers to teach them himself. See the way our Valentino uses his knowledge of the dance even to this day?"

Stephanie tilted her head and studied me for a moment. Then she said, "You really love what you do, don't you?"

"Very much," I told her. "Good music lifts our spirits, but the beat of the drum speak to the depths of our souls."

"Cat is a superb dancer, too," Stephanie remarked. "Did you also teach her?"

Now it was my turn to I blink. "Oh, no, no, no," I shook my head and explained our ways to her. "I don't teach the girls. Their mothers teach them to follow the man's lead in the dance. Of course, they do learn how to complement the man's dancing and how to present themselves as fitting partners, but no, my girls don't play the drums."

"I see," she said. "Have you ever _**offered **_to teach the girls to play the drums?"

"No."

"Hmm."

"It sounds as though you disapprove," I stated. "I hope my old-fashioned ways don't offend you, Stephanie. I assure you, I have never discouraged my daughters or granddaughters from learning to dance, but until recently, most Cuban bands have been made up of mostly men - especially the percussionists. I'm not saying it's right or wrong; it's just the way things are."

She smiled again and said, "I'm not trying to pass judgment, Papí. I just find it interesting. I wonder, though, if one of your granddaughters actually wanted to learn how to play the ... tumbadora, would you teach her?"

"Maybe. Probably," I considered my next words carefully. "Yes, I would teach her, but only if _**she**_ really wanted it for herself. I would not force a girl to learn these things."

"I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that you _**do**_ force the boys to learn."

I paused for a moment and then nodded. "Hmm. You make a good point, Stephanie Plum. I will think about what you have said. Right now, though, I'm going to go home and rest for a while. Please tell Carlos that I'll see you both when you get there."

She looked horrified. "Are you driving all the back to Coral Gables _**now**_? The traffic is so heavy!"

Now I was confused. Surely, my grandson had told his sweetheart that I planned to host them at the marina for the next few days. Could I have misunderstood his intentions? Well, I thought, perhaps Carlos meant for it to be a surprise, so I decided to be vague when I answered Stephanie.

"Coral Gables? No, that house is ... well, it is filled with so many memories of my late wife that sometimes it is ... difficult for me to be there. My oldest son and his wife moved in a while ago and I still keep a set of rooms for myself, but now that the hurricane season is over, I mostly stay on this side of the bay." I positioned my fedora on my head just right and reached for the handle of the exit door. Turning to her one last time, I said, "I'm sure you will like it here; it's much, _**much**_ closer to the beach than the house in Coral Gables. See you soon!"

"Oh, that's great! We'll see you at dinner, then," she said as I opened the door to leave. "Again, I'm so glad I finally got to meet you, _**Papí**_. I hope you have a good rest!"

I nodded my farewell and walked out of the dance studio. Breathing in the early evening air, I thought of all the things Túlio and I would need to do in order to be ready for Carlos and Stephanie's arrival. Dinner would have to be fantastic, but my chef always managed that task with ease. The moon wasn't quite full, but it was large enough to set a romantic mood tonight. And I would have to remove a certain, _**special**_ item from my safe.

It was easy to see why my grandson was so attracted to Stephanie Plum. She was full of the spark of life. Her internal fire burned warm and bright. And she wasn't afraid to question an old man's set-in ways. I knew without a doubt that I would enjoy watching Carlos and Stephanie as they danced through their future together. Theirs promised to be very interesting union, filled with excitement and passion.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

Despite what I told Stephanie about being a prolific dancer in my high school days, it had been ages since I'd been closer than ten feet to a dance floor. I wanted to refuse to dance with Cat, but that would have been extremely rude. The problem was that dancing always put me on dangerous ground. It was very difficult for me to control my libido when the music tempted me and the sensual background rhythms awakened an almost unquenchable fire deep within my soul. And, seriously, the only person with whom I truly wanted to dance was Stephanie.

Dios! I felt like strangling Gonzo. If I had known that Cat and Val were teaching a Friday afternoon dance class, I would have tried to talk to Val earlier in the day while Stephanie was shopping. Now I had become trapped in the club's dance studio and Cat had successfully lured me into dancing with her. As much as I hated to do this in front of Stephanie, I thought it would be best if I cooperated with my cousins so that I would have a stronger position to get _**them**_ to cooperate with tonight's mission.

As Papí pounded out the various rhythms, all my knowledge and all my experience flooded back into me and led Cat through all the dance steps she demanded of me. For the first time in a long while, I let myself be free to follow the music. It felt so good and when I saw Val leading my Babe out onto the dance floor, I knew it was time for _**me**_ to introduce her to my way of dancing. I was _**not**_in the mood to share - not even with Val.

Moving to Papí's rhythms with Stephanie in my arms was fantastic. She was very apprehensive at first and I had to work hard to get her to relax. Even when I tried to reassure Steph that she was doing fine, she insisted that she couldn't dance. It was interesting to me that my Babe was completely unaware of the way she unconsciously allowed her body to follow mine, whichever way I led her. In my arms, she most certainly could dance - she just hadn't realized it for herself, yet.

I truly meant it when I promised Stephanie that I would ward off every man who tried to ask her to dance, but when I saw her speaking to my grandfather by the water cooler, I realized the foolish arrogance of my declaration. I probably could shield my Babe from every other male _**except**_ for Papí. And even though they weren't dancing, I sensed that there was some sort of 'verbal tango' going on between them.

The problem for me was that, at that precise moment, I really needed to take the opportunity to speak with Val. He was so happy to see me dancing after the many years of me refusing to do so; I knew I could take advantage of his positive emotions and convince him to work with RangeMan for tonight's mission. And now that I thought about it, I also wanted to kick Gonzo's ass for setting me up like this. I'm sure he knew what he was doing by asking _**me**_ to placate Val.

Securing Val's cooperation wasn't as difficult as I thought it might be. Once I explained to my cousins the way that my internal radar worked and that it was buzzing so loudly I could barely think, even they were convinced that Tommy Galarza was nearby. I told them that it wouldn't have surprised me to discover that the elder Galarza's yacht was one of the ones Stephanie had admired as we traveled across the causeway.

Of course, once I mentioned Stephanie, Cat and Val started in on me with the questions. They wanted to know _**everything**_ - and in great detail. Where was Stephanie from? How did we meet? What was her family like? Did she have _**any**_ Cuban ancestry in her blood? Was this really the first time I'd ever danced with her? Why didn't I tell them about her earlier?

Of course, I couldn't hear what Papí and Steph were discussing across the room from me, but I felt like I was doomed. From the impish smile on my Babe's face and the glint in my grandfather's eyes, I was fairly certain that Papí was telling her personal family stories about me that I'd rather not have to discuss right now. Damn! Now I really regretted coming to my cousin's club this afternoon.

**"You know, Carlos,"** Val's Spanish words finally broke through my distracted thoughts. **"I always knew you were a 'coconut' - brown on the outside, white on the inside. Too bad she's not a Cuban girl. It's alright, though, because your Stephanie is _**hot**_!"**

**"Yes, she is,"** I agreed. **"But Stephanie doesn't speak Spanish, yet, so I've agreed to stick to English when I'm with her - at least until she can understand our language better."**

Cat glanced across the room to where Stephanie and our grandfather were having their private conversation, and then she smiled at me, **"Well, it looks like she's holding her own with Papí. She's a smart girl; she'll catch on soon enough. Just look at how quickly she learned to dance. You should bring her back to us for a few more lessons before you return to New York."**

"New Jersey," I corrected - again.

"What_**ever**_," she replied. I think Cat always did that on purpose just to irritate me. She's been 'mistaking' my other home state ever since we were teenagers.

"Thanks, but we'll have to decline this time around," I said, "Stephanie and I recently cracked a big case up in _**New Jersey**_ and we just needed a little break. We're on more of a casual trip and besides, Stephanie wants to hit the beach for the next two days."

**"Then you should go over to my parents' place on the Key for the rest of the weekend. They're cruising around the coast to visit Tío Marcos over in Tampa and won't be back for another week,"** Cat said. **"The house has its own slip and Papí knows how to get there. I can call my parents, if you like, and let them know you'll be staying there. They won't mind."**

**"That would be very nice of you,"** I said. **"I know Steph would love the beach at Crandon Park over there. Are you sure your parents won't mind?"

**"Absolutely! Their housekeeper, Frida, is very nice. I take friends there all the time."**

**"Alright, then,"** I nodded. **"I truly appreciate your family's generosity Cat."**

**"It's no big deal," she said and she hugged me. **"Just ... promise me you'll visit us more often, okay, cousin?"**

When she let go of me, I looked directly into her moist eyes and promised, **"We will."**

**"_**We**_, huh?"** Val asked. **"So ... you really are thinking of yourself as one half of a _**lasting**_ relationship this time?"** I knew he was referring to my short marriage of convenience to Rachel.

**"I'm going to ask Stephanie to marry me - soon."** I admitted. **"And, yes, this time it will be forever."**

Val gazed across the room, but he kept speaking to me, **"Stephanie's a real lively - and lovely - lady. You're going to have your hands full with this one, Carlos."**

I smiled at him and said, **"Yes, but they'll be _**happy**_ hands,"**

They both laughed and I decided that it probably was time to tackle Steph's sugar cravings again. At least, that's what I told myself. I spoke in English to my cousins, "Look, it's been great spending time with both of you and I'm very glad that you're back on-board for tonight's mission. Really, though, Stephanie and I just stopped by to say hello. Gonzo told me about the triple-star ratings in the latest travel guides and he said that I ought to bring Stephanie to see the new show. So, we'll be back later on tonight, but we probably should go now."

"I'll put your names on the VIP list so that you can breeze right through the line." Val said.

"What?" I exclaimed as I watched Papí disappear out the back door. "I'm one of the _**owners**_ here. What do you mean by putting my name on some stupid list?"

Cat patted my arm to soothe me, "Remember what I said about the high cost of success? This is only _**one**_ of the things we've had to do to control the hoards of people who want to come in to see our shows now. You know, all of the better clubs manage their crowds like this, anyway. I'm surprised that Gonzo didn't tell you about these things."

"Gonzo hasn't told me very much about _**a lot **_of things," I growled. Then I shook off my negative feelings and turned my thoughts around. "Never mind. If a VIP list is how you do things these days, then maybe that will help us nab Tommy Galarza tonight. How do VIPs usually contact you to get their names on such a list?"

Cat began to explain the process to me and I tried to pay attention. Stephanie was walking across the room toward us, so it was difficult to concentrate on my cousin's words. Steph's smile had a certain tilt to it and I recognized the deeper emotions shining in her eyes. Yes, it definitely was time for my Babe and me to leave the club.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

After we bid farewell to Ranger's cousins, he ushered me out the back door and over to the Mercedes. I reached out and ran my fingers across the shiny surface of the car, admiring its clean lines and classy appearance. When I looked up again, Ranger was staring at me with a big grin on his face. He opened the door for me and I slid onto the soft leather seat.

He said, "I can see that you like this car. Do you want to keep it for yourself?"

"What?" I was caught off-guard. "Oh, no! You know I can't keep a car - especially a _**nice **_car like this one - safe. Some idiot with a score to settle would torch it in a heartbeat." I buckled my seat-belt and he closed the door for me.

"Babe, you need a new car," Ranger said as he got behind the wheel and prepared to drive away from the club. "All I'm saying is that you could have _**this**_ one, if you wanted it. It's totally up to you."

I shook my head. "Thanks, but no. I agree that I need a new car, but I was thinking that it would be best if I drove vehicles that were less, um, ostentatious."

"Ostentatious?" He had raised an eyebrow at me.

I waved my hand around at our surroundings and explained, "Flashy. Expensive. Noticeable. Difficult to insure. You _**know**_ what I mean, Carlos."

Ranger gave me a half-smile and said, "I told you, I can always get good car insurance for whatever you're driving."

"Yes, but why tempt fate? We both know that I have bad car karma."

"Okay then, what kind of vehicle would you be willing to drive?" Ranger asked. "You have to drive _**something**_, Babe. And I can make sure that it's as safe as any car can be."

"I'll think about it." I said and tried not to be upset with this man I thought I knew before today.

At first I thought it wouldn't be too difficult to switch from calling him 'Ranger' to calling him 'Carlos' but it's been somewhat confusing for me. Honestly, I still saw him as being Ranger, even though his family definitely didn't see him that way at all. Of course, the Man of Mystery was always the same person no matter what anyone called him; it's just that now I could see that there were huge differences between the various facets of his personality. And I was beginning to think I had figured it out.

'Ranger' is the super-cool, super-sexy badass bounty hunter who first took me under his wing and showed me what I was supposed to be doing when I became a bounty hunter, too. He's the man with whom I first fell in lust and then love. 'Ricardo' is the son and grandson of Cuban immigrants. One side of his family resides in modest, blue-collar neighborhoods throughout northern New Jersey and New York City, while the other side of his family resides in the wealthy enclaves of southern Florida. 'Carlos' is the man who now possesses my heart, body, mind and soul. I am his - completely - and he knows it. But they're all really just ... 'Ranger' to me.

"So." He said to me as we drove along.

I was gazing out my window at the lights reflecting off the water. It was hard not to gawk at all the tall cranes on the many construction sites we passed by. Apparently, South Beach was undergoing a time a tremendous growth and development.

"So." I said in response, not knowing which direction our conversation was headed.

"You _**danced**_ with me today, Babe," he said. "How do you feel about that now?"

I shrugged. "I'm still not sure about tonight, Carlos. I mean, I definitely want to see your cousins' show, but the dancing afterward; well ... we'll just have to wait and see. Everything starts so late and you said you would let me sleep in this morning, but you didn't."

He glanced in my direction and said, "I seem to remember you enjoying your 'wake-up call' this morning."

The memory sent a flash of heat through me, but I shot back at him, "Nevertheless, I'm tired, Carlos. Can I at least take a nap before we go back out tonight?"

"Sure," he said. "Dinner should be ready when we arrive at our destination. There should be plenty of time for you to catch a few hours of sleep after our meal. If you want," and he reached over to place his hand on top of mine. "I can even make certain that you're completely ... _**relaxed**_ before your nap."

This time I couldn't prevent myself from shivering at the thought of what Ranger's 'relaxation techniques' would do to me. I only hoped that I'd be able to take a shower before we did anything else; the dancing had been rather nerve-racking at first and I know I sweated a lot. Ranger noticed my trembling and he and gently squeezed my hand.

I murmured, "At the rate we're going, Batman, I don't know if I can last all night long."

"Babe."

Ranger pulled up to the gate of a parking lot at a marina where several large boats stretched along piers for as far as I could see. He flashed a pass at an attendant who waved us through and then he parked the car. He got out and removed our suitcases from the trunk of the car and then came around to open my door for me.

"You have a boat?" I asked when Ranger helped me out of the car.

"Sort of. Papí used to sell boats, too," he explained and he gazed toward the pier. "One of his final customers ordered a very nice yacht, complete with all the bells and whistles. It had state-of-the-art navigational systems, a full galley, two nice-sized dens, two luxury state rooms, as well as guest bunks and more. In fact, it's bigger and nicer than some people's houses."

"That definitely sounds nicer than my apartment," I said.

"Yes, well, unfortunately, the customer died of a heart attack before he was able to take possession of the boat. His widow didn't want it anymore, so Papí was left with this large piece of property on his hands."

"Couldn't he sell it to someone else then?"

"Believe me, babe, he tried. It was the last boat on his lot before he retired from running the business. It just wouldn't sell."

"Was anything wrong with it?"

Ranger shrugged. "Not really. But the colors were a little ... dark."

"Dark?"

"Most people choose bright and cheerful colors when they plan their boat's decor. The man who ordered this particular boat was very partial to his school colors ... which also happen to be the Army's colors."

"Green and tan?" I asked, thinking about the battle uniforms I'd seen in military recruiting commercials on TV.

"No. Black and gold. Heavy on the black."

The hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I had a strong suspicion about where we were headed. "That doesn't sound too terrible. Isn't black _**your**_ favorite color?" I asked.

Ranger laughed. "When you see it, you'll understand. And you're right, I do like black. In fact, Tank and I were passing through Miami when he was still trying to get rid if the yacht and we told Papí that we didn't think it looked so bad, either."

"Tank saw the boat, too?" Now my arms felt all prickly, too.

"Yes, Tank likes to fish and since the boat also was equipped with deep-sea fishing apparatus, Papí took us out in it for a two-day trip. We brought most of our catch back to Trenton and everyone ate very well for the next week."

I was amazed. "Tank - big, hulking, no-neck Tank - likes to _**fish**_?"

"Hell, yeah! A lot of the guys do," Ranger said as though it was common knowledge. "After a tough mission, it's always good to be able to sail out to sea, get away from all the hassles of life and ... just ... go fishing."

"I've never really been much of a fish-eater." I confessed.

"That's because you probably never had _**real**_ fresh fish. It's good, stuff, Babe. And it's good for you, too. You'll see." And then he began to walk toward the pier.

I followed him and shook my head, "Tank _**fishes**_?" I asked.

I still couldn't wrap my mind around this new information. The idea of Tank wrestling with a fishing pole almost made me laugh. It also was difficult for me to imagine Ranger with a fishing pole in his hands, but I'd seen him do so many out-of-character things in the past twenty-four hours, that very little about the Man of Mystery could surprise me now.

"Yes, Tank enjoys fishing," Ranger reaffirmed as we continued to walk past large white boats in their individual slips. "Gonzo and Silvio and most of the RangeMan guys down here enjoy it, too. I suppose fishing really is more of a Florida thing. Anyway, Papí sort of 'gave' the yacht to me as a tax write-off."

"He 'sort of' gave it to you?"

"Yes, it's mine, but we still keep it registered under Súarez Enterprises, though, because Papí has taken to living aboard the vessel during the winter months. Sometimes he even takes the guys out to sea on short fishing cruises. That way, the boat doesn't rot in dry dock when I'm not in Miami."

"So, is this ... _**yacht**_ the place where we'll be staying for the rest of our time in Miami?"

"Yes."

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks and said to him, "Ranger! I mean, Carlos! Dammit! Ever since we arrived down here, you've been showing me all these ... these _**different**_ sides of your personality. Not only do you track down bad guys for a living, but you also _**dance**_ with your family and now it seems that you sail and fish for _**fun**_, too. This is all so overwhelming to me! Who _**are**_ you, anyway?"

Ranger hesitated and then he put our suitcases down onto the wooden pier. He walked back to where I was standing and wrapped his arms around me. Tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, he gazed into my eyes and softly said, "I'm the man who loves you, Stephanie. No matter what name you call me or what I'm wearing or where we happen to be on any given day. And I will love you always, until the day I die. _**That's**_ who I am, Babe." Then he kissed me and all my questions went away.

We were standing in the shadow of a large, mostly black yacht. It certainly was much, much smaller than a cruise ship, but it definitely was much larger than the last boat I'd been aboard during my days as Dickie's wife. When Ranger released me from his reassuring embrace, I glanced up and did a double-take. My mouth dropped open as I silently read the stylized yellow lettering on the back end of the boat, which I suddenly remembered was called the stern.

Papí was there on the deck above us, waving and smiling, "Welcome, Carlos and Stephanie! Welcome home to 'The Batcave'!"

**

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A/N: Well, that was so much fun to write! I got a lot of inspiration from watching the mid-'90's film 'The Birdcage' with Robin Williams, Nathan Lane and Gene Hackman. It takes place at a club in - you guessed it - South Beach, Florida! As you can tell, I'm really enjoying myself with this story, even though I'm starting to get a touch of 'cabin fever' stuck here inside my house. It's snowing again even as I type this note. Aaaaagh! Anyway, yes, it's true: In _**this **_**story, the Batcave is actually a yacht! 'Oldbabe' called it first when she made a savvy guess back at Chapter 14! Nice catch, 'Oldbabe"! Alright, Bat-fans, tune in next time to this same Bat-channel for more exciting adventures!! And again, please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D**


	17. Chapter 17

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. **

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! (Even though it'll almost be over by the time I post this.) I know I spoiled you last week by posting long chapters so often, but I had to take a tiny break when a pipe in the ceiling above my computer desk sprung a leak. Needless to say, I had to disassemble everything and move it all to a safe place until a plumber could get in there and fix the problem. Then, my hubby and I left town for the weekend to attend a state-wide marriage retreat with other couples from our church. We had a LOT of fun! In fact, I had such a great time that I was very inspired to write more lovey-dovey stuff for our heroes in this story. It is, after all, Valentine's Day and I hope you all had a good one, too. In this (relatively) shorter chapter, the first half is in Ranger's POV and the second half is in Stephanie's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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There was a time, not too long ago, when Ranger's address was a vacant lot. It turns out besides being a very tough guy, he's also a very smart businessman, and he now lives in an extremely upscale one-bedroom inner sanctum of civilized calm. The apartment was tastefully decorated by a professional, and is now maintained by Ella. The furniture is comfortable contemporary. Leather, chrome, dark woods, with earth-tone accents. It's clearly masculine but not overpowering. The apartment feels surprisingly warm in spite of the fact that there are no personal touches. No family photographs. No favorite books stacked at bedside. No clutter. I've spent a reasonable time in Ranger's apartment, and I've always thought it was a place where he slept but didn't live. I've never been able to find the place he would call _**home**__. Maybe it doesn't exist. Maybe he carries it inside him. Or maybe it's a place he hasn't yet discovered._

_Finger Lickin' Fifteen_

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Chapter 17: The Love Boat

**Ranger's POV**

"Th-the B-Batcave is a ... a _**boat**_?" Stephanie exclaimed as she peered up at Papí, who was waving at us from the upper deck of the large, black-hulled 80-foot yacht. "All this time, Lula and I have been searching and asking questions and trying to find the place you actually call 'home' ... and it's a boat?"

I smiled at her and placed my arm around her shoulder. "Like I told you before, Babe, it's not what you always thought it was. There really isn't a 'Batcave' of the sort you've been imagining. And actually, Tank and I gave the yacht this name as sort of a joke."

"A joke?"

"It was after you started referring to me as 'Batman.' Tank used to harass me mercilessly over that. And we always knew that you and Lula and Connie were forever trying to figure out where I lived. Of course, you all quickly found out that my 'legal' address was a vacant lot. Connie already knew about my business location, but it was rather impressive when _**you**_ discovered my private apartment within the Haywood building."

Steph narrowed her eyes at me and her voice sounded a bit edgy. "You told me I'd have to work much harder to find the Batcave. You told me that GPS wouldn't take me there. I guess this proves that you were right. I'd _**never**_ have found a _**boat**_ on my own! It's not even listed among your various properties - and I know this because we all searched and searched and there was never anything in your file other than that stupid vacant lot. Not even your cars are listed under your name!"

I smiled at her and said, "The number of times you ladies have attempted to conduct background and property searches on me is ... mind-boggling."

"It wasn't _**that **_often," she protested. "Besides, we quit looking - especially after all of my extended stays in your apartment."

"Stephanie, I get an automated back-channel message every time someone tries to obtain information about me or any of my properties."

"Every time?" A worried expression crossed her face.

"_**Every**_ time," I confirmed with a nod. "There have been days - even recently - when my e-mail inbox has been crammed full of notices because you or one of the other ladies apparently have nothing better to do than sit around Vinnie's office and try to figure out where I actually live."

Steph lifted her chin defiantly and said, "Sometimes we finished bringing in all the FTAs quicker than anticipated. And you yourself know that some days there just aren't any skips. Vinnie likes us to at least _**look**_ busy, so we have to fill the hours doing _**something**_."

"Babe."

"Well ... we do!"

"Then it's a good thing you'll be working primarily for RangeMan now and only part-time for Vinnie, because _**I'll**_ definitely make sure you're busy - one way or another."

She stared back at me, open-mouthed. I figured she was trying to absorb all the possible interpretations of what I'd just said - and that was a good thing, because I really meant to keep her busy. An idle Stephanie was an incident waiting to happen. Unfortunately, she also began to chew on her lower lip, so I knew she was worried about something else.

"I smell something burning, Babe, and I know it's not our dinner. What are you thinking about now?"

Her fingers played with the edge of her skirt as she said, "You once told me that if you took me into the Batcave, that it ... it would be forever, so I was just, um, wondering if _**this**_ counts."

I laughed and shook my head. "C'mon," I said and I picked up our luggage. "I'm sure that you must be hungry by now and I know that Túlio has prepared a wonderful dinner; he always does."

"Ranger, wait!" Stephanie said. The fact that she had used my street name again alerted me to the possibility of 'dangerous waters' ahead. "I'm not joking here. I really want to know what all of this means." And she waved her arm toward the yacht.

I took a deep breath, put the bags down again and placed my hand on her shoulder. "Babe, this is just a boat. It's a very nice, mostly black boat, so we've named it the _Batca--_"

"But is _**this**_ the 'forever' Batcave?" She interrupted me and crossed her arms over her chest.

Sighing deeply, I carefully considered my words before I continued, "Stephanie, I've been a nomad for all of my adult life. I don't accumulate the kind of junk most people drag around with them from location to location. The place that you've been looking for - the place that I would call 'home' - that place now exists wherever _**you **_are. Whether it's my apartment or your apartment or a safe house or a playfully-named yacht; my home is with you."

"With me?"

"Yes, _**you**_," I repeated for emphasis. "I love you, Babe, and we can build our own Batcave wherever you want - if that's what you want." When I leaned down to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around my neck and the kiss quickly intensified.

"Dinner is ready whenever you are!" Papí's voice interrupted us from above.

"Oh, I'm ready," I whispered into Steph's ear, "But not necessarily for dinner. Would you like for me to stall dinner for just a little while?"

As if on cue, her stomach growled and I knew the answer to my question. Still, she giggled and gently pushed me away. "Like to - yes. Able to - no. Now that I know there's good food nearby, there's no chance of me waiting - we both know that, Carlos."

"We're going to have to work on your stomach's patience," I groused. "It's far too ... disruptive."

"Hey! Don't hold my hunger pangs against me," she said. "It's not my fault that you've starved me all afternoon. Besides, won't Papí know what we're, um ... doing if we don't join him for dinner right away?"

"What?"

She blushed and said, "I mean, won't the boat ... rock back and forth when we ... um, you know?"

I laughed and turned to pick up our luggage again. "It's a _**big**_ boat, Babe. I promise nothing we do will make it move that much. And as far as Papí is concerned; he and Abuela Blanca raised eight children and they partially raised a few grandchildren to maturity as well. I'm pretty sure he's already figured out what we've been doing."

Stephanie hesitated, but then she grudgingly followed me aboard the yacht. I knew she was still somewhat disappointed to discover that my _Batcave_ here wasn't an actual home or some sort of secret underground hide-away like the comic book hero's place. I also knew that my Babe craved stability. And really, now that we were on the verge of 'someday' and 'forever', I was looking forward to finding or building a place we both could call 'home.'

Papí gave each of us a big hug as we came aboard and he informed us that Túlio planned to serve us our meal on the upper deck. Normally, we ate in the dining area, so I instantly knew that Papí and his chef were doing something special for us. Then my grandfather took Stephanie on a grand tour of the _Batcave_ while I placed our bags directly into the spacious master cabin.

The retired general who originally had ordered the Bertram 800 sport fishing yacht had been a graduate of West Point. He was the type of rabid Army sports fan that his fellow alumni called a 'Gray Hog' and the phrase, 'Go Army, Beat Navy!' featured prominently on the walls of the yacht's social areas. The general also _**loved **_his school colors so much that he had used them all over the inside and the outside of the boat. Almost everything was decorated in black, with gray and gold accents, which is why it was so dark.

In all four of the staterooms, as well as the master suite, the bedding was black with gold and gray accents and the curtains were either gold with black accents or gray with black accents. All of the granite countertops throughout the boat were black with little flecks of gold. The leather upholstery in the cockpit, dining area, salon and wet bar was all black. As I said, it was very dark and the name _Batcave_ suited it very well.

I could have spent a lot of money to strip out all of the dark decor and replace it all with something more along the lines of my personal taste, but I truly didn't mind the yacht as it was. I did remove the many West Point school crests and pennants from the walls of the social areas, but I left the rest of the boat alone. After all, I had served in the regular Army and I happened to believe in the military academy's motto of 'Duty, Honor, Country,' which was etched in gold lettering into the black trim above the entryway to every room on the _Batcave_.

Papí and Stephanie knocked on the door while I was unpacking a few essentials for later, but I refused to let them see the cabin while I was in there. I wanted to keep my preparations a secret for as long as possible. As I set out the last of the candles, I noticed that Papí had placed several framed family photos all around the cabin. The images brought me good memories and put a smile on my face. I anticipated that Stephanie would get mushy over the photos of me competing in various track events, as well as a large photo of me, Val, Cat and Gonzo in our high school graduation caps and gowns.

Before I left the cabin, something on the pillow of the king-sized bed caught my attention and I went over to examine it. Emotion is something I rarely show, so I was glad that my Babe wasn't in the room to witness the glistening in my eyes when I saw the note that Papí had left for me, along with a small velvet-covered box. The note was written in Spanish and it read:

**~~ _Carlos, here is the ring your beloved grandmother left for you in her will. It is the same ring with which I proposed to my Blanca back in Cuba so many years ago. The last time we spoke of it, you declared that you did not wish to take possession of the ring until you managed to win the heart of a very special lady. After watching you dance with Miss Stephanie Plum this afternoon and speaking with her for myself, I believe that you have accomplished your goal. If I am mistaken, I will put the ring back into the safe and we all will have a fun weekend of swimming and fishing together. However, if I am correct in my assumptions - and I think I am - then I plan to disembark and stay with Valentino for the weekend so that you and your sweetheart may enjoy some privacy. Of course, the crew will remain aboard and they will be more than happy to take you wherever you wish to go. Please tell me your decision at dinner this evening. With love, Papí._ ~~**

I opened the box and gazed down at the silver ring nestled within its white satin lining. Papí had been a young man of modest means when he proposed to Abuela, so the diamond was tiny and the two sapphires on either side of the diamond were just as small. He always said that the blue gems reminded him of her sparkling eyes. Abuela had worn the ring for almost fifty years - until the swelling from her diabetes forced her to remove it before it had to be cut off of her finger. She then wore the precious ring on a silver chain around her neck until their fiftieth wedding anniversary, when Papí gave her a fantastic replacement ring with a huge diamond surrounded by several sapphires.

After Abuela Blanca died and the lawyers read aloud her last will and testament, the larger ring went to my Tía Márgarita to pass down to her oldest daughter someday. No one complained because that seemed just right. However, my female relatives were quite disappointed and disgruntled that Abuela bequeathed the smaller ring to _**me**_. At that time, no one - not even I - expected that I would consider marriage ever again, and most people imagined that the ring eventually would be passed down to my daughter Julie, who was not yet included in Súarez family gatherings.

Holding the ring in my hand made me feel closer to my Abuela than I had in a long time. Her death had been extremely difficult for me because it happened while I was recovering from that FUBAR mission to Columbia. The Army granted me an emergency leave of absence so that I could be at my grandmother's bedside in her final hours, but I was still so messed up, it looked like I needed to be in the hospital bed next to hers.

Of course, I hadn't told - and never could tell - my Abuela anything about my life with the U.S. Special Forces. It didn't matter, though; whenever I had visited Coral Gables in between missions, she knew that something wasn't quite right with me. It pleased her that I was diligent in taking care of responsibilities toward my daughter, but she was worried that I had become too hardened and unyielding and that I never would find true love.

At the end of her life, Abuela Blanca smiled up at me, patted my chest and said, "Carlos, you _**must**_ soften your heart again. I know there is someone special waiting for you and someday you will build a happy life with her. I dare you to be brave enough to love someone as deeply as my Ricky has loved me." Only recently have I even been able to _**consider**_ honoring her last wishes.

Truthfully, I wasn't very confident that the silver ring would fit on Stephanie's ring finger. My Abuela had been a tiny woman - barely five feet tall - and I remembered her hands as being small and delicate. Proposing to my Babe with this ring might be a purely sentimental and symbolic gesture, especially because it might only fit on her pinky finger, but it meant a lot to me to be able to do it this way.

If Stephanie accepted my actual marriage proposal, then I had every intention of taking her shopping for our wedding bands on Monday. I wanted to be ready for Tuesday, or for whenever our 'someday' actually would begin. It would be nice to return to Trenton with Stephanie as my lawfully-wedded wife, but I wasn't going to force her hand. Well, maybe this whole set-up _**was**_ sort of a 'full-court press' but, hey, I'd been waiting for a long time. Nevertheless, tonight I'd have to go with what was immediately available to me, so slipped Abuela's ring and Papí's note into the pocket of my pants and I headed up to the main deck.

As I had expected, Papí and Stephanie had continued to charm each other as he showed her all of the yacht's special features. By the time I reached the upper dining area, they were laughing about something, but they stopped when they noticed me on deck. I grimaced inwardly because I knew Papí well enough to understand that he had been telling embarrassing stories about me again. Oh well, I had allowed Stephanie into this part of my life and she was going to hear everything sooner or later, so I'd just have to adjust.

"It's good to see that two are getting along so nicely," I said. "Want to tell me what's so funny?"

They glanced at each other and burst out laughing again. I worked hard to control my annoyance; it made me uncomfortable to be the object of anyone's conversation. I also hated to be the butt of anyone's jokes and I _**knew**_ they were laughing at me. It probably wasn't fair for me to glare at Steph; however, I knew she would be the first to crack under pressure.

She stopped laughing and said, "Papí was just telling me about the first time you and Val failed your grandmother's white-glove inspection after working ineffectively for three straight days. The mental image that he painted so vividly for me was of two scrawny teen boys trying - and failing - to clean the toilets with old toothbrushes. I've never tried to imagine you as young and scrawny and it's ...well ... it's _**funny.**_" And she failed in her attempt to hold in her next round of laughter.

"It wasn't very funny at the time," I said to her. Then I turned to Papí and said, "And I was never _**scrawny**_. You must be thinking of Val."

Papí lifted his chin and defended his story, "I clearly remember that _**both**_ of you were beardless and very skinny at the time. You and Valentino were so sore from all the physical labor that you could hardly move. Blanca and I had to bite our tongues to keep from laughing at your pitiful-ness. Of course, once you boys finally learned how to do things the right way and your grandmother allowed the household staff to resume their usual duties, you never talked down to or ignored the servants ever again."

Obviously, I wasn't going to change Papí's version of his memories and I didn't want our conversation to focus on the antics of young Val and Carlos, so I quickly changed the topic. "I thought you said dinner is ready," I said.

"Ah, yes," Papí nodded. "This is true. Come along, then. Túlio has prepared something very special for you." Then he led us out to the small entertainment area next to the yacht's enclosed cockpit.

Papí already had introduced Stephanie to Captain Bob Brewer and his wife María, who also served on board as the First Mate, and we all waved to them as they disembarked for an evening out in town. Then he ushered us to the table, on which there were only two fancy place settings, a white tablecloth and two long candles in silver candle holders. My grandfather had a big grin on his face when he noticed that I had noticed the romantic dinner arrangements. Obviously, he meant to play the role of 'Cupid' aboard this 'Love Boat' tonight.

"Please, sit down," Papí said. "Túlio will be right up with your meal."

"You're not eating with us?" Steph asked.

"Oh, no, no, no," Papí smiled and shook his head, "I already had a light dinner when I arrived. You two should have some privacy. Besides, I must take a nap now if I want to be in any condition to stay awake for the show tonight."

I held his gaze for a long moment. We both knew that, despite his age, Papí was a true 'night owl' and it was well-known that he could play his drums until the wee hours of the morning. If he wanted to give me and Stephanie privacy, though, I wasn't going to complain. And in answer to his unspoken inquiry about the disposition of Abuela's ring, I patted my pocket and he nodded his understanding before he disappeared to the lower level of the yacht.

**Stephanie's POV**

At first, I wanted to be mad at my Batman for his Batcave turning out to be a friggin' boat. I mean, how wrong was that? It's just something I never had anticipated and I hated being outsmarted like this. Also, it was annoying to think that Ranger and Tank had named this beautiful yacht as a joke, but I'd just had to get over it. The boat was very special - large, dark and imposing - but special all the same.

No kidding; there was more space aboard the yacht than there was in my apartment and both of Ranger's apartments combined. In fact, it was difficult to understand why the Man of Mystery wouldn't want to stay here in Florida all the time. Peersonally, I was looking forward to laying out on the large sun-pad and working on my tan, as well as watching the 52-inch flat screen TV in the living room, which Papí called a salon. The wet bar and state-of-the-art kitchen, called a galley, with black appliances and black granite countertops everywhere were a bit overwhelming, but Ranger _**had**_ warned me. The decor of the _Batcave_ truly was as dark as, well, a Batcave.

Captain Bob Brewer and his wife/First Mate, María, made a cute couple and I thought they were a very interesting, too. I was looking forward to getting to know them better during the time that Ranger and I planned to spend aboard the _Batcave_. Even though Bob's name sounded very Anglo, his appearance was very Latino, and so was María's. They easily spoke Spanish with each other and with Papí, but they didn't seem to have any accents when they spoke English to me. This just made me more curious.

Papí was so cute as he gave me a tour of the entire _Batcave_ - he clearly intended for Ranger and me to have a romantic time while we aboard the yacht. He kept mentioning the spectacular views that we would see once we set out into the ocean for a short fishing cruise in the morning. As the sun disappeared beyond the western horizon, though, Papí pointed out the rising moon, speaking of how lovely and romantic it would seem even though it wasn't quite full. He also told me about the high level of privacy aboard the yacht due to the layout of everyone's living quarters.

The captain and his wife stayed in a private crew cabin, closest to the engine room, so we'd hardly ever see them as they went about their duties. The chef, Túlio Cabrera, lived in a private cabin behind the galley, where he enjoyed experimenting with new recipes. Although, Carlos wouldn't allow me into the cabin he and I would be sharing, Papí made a point of showing me that there even was an unoccupied cabin in between the stateroom where Papí normally stayed and our cabin. It definitely seemed as though Papí had everything worked out for our benefit.

One of the best things about spending time alone with Papí was that I had the opportunity to ask questions about Carlos' life when he was younger. Ranger's lively grandfather kept me laughing with stories of Carlos' first days adjusting to life under the watchful eyes of his Abuela Blanca. Apparently, the young juvenile delinquent and his newly-outed cousin had required major attitude adjustments.

Of course, Ranger became wary when he caught up with Papí and me and saw us laughing together. When he realized that we were laughing at him, he was _**not**_ amused. I suppose I was so accustomed to my family airing my 'dirty laundry' in front of anyone who would listen that it didn't affect me the same way it obviously affected Ranger. Still, Papí appeared to have the upper hand when he excused himself and left us alone to have a private, candlelight dinner for two. Even the captain and his wife had the night off, so Ranger held my chair out for me and then we both settled in for one of the best meals anyone has ever served to me.

Túlio, a short, bearded man with a high forehead and warm brown eyes, brought out a covered tray and lifted the lid with a flourish, "I spoke with both Ella and Rosalinda to get a better idea of what might please you, Miss Stephanie, so I hope you will enjoy what I have created especially for you tonight."

I couldn't believe my eyes! There was a ceramic dish filled with macaroni noodles swimming in a creamy cheddar cheese sauce, a small plate of glazed ham slices, and a bowl of finely-chopped fresh pineapple chunks with diced Maraschino cherries. Ranger's dinner was almost completely different - some sort of fish and grilled vegetables - but he also had the same mixed fruit selection. He was as surprised as I was.

"Túlio?" Ranger asked. "Is there any particular significance to our separate dinner selections?"

"Oh, yes!" Túlio smiled widely and spoke first to me in his heavily accented English, "I apologize for not making the cake, Miss Stephanie, but I already had cut open the fruit so I decided to serve the pineapple anyway. Forgive me, but sometimes it's easier for me to get my point across in my native tongue." Then he turned and answered Ranger directly in Spanish. **"Señor Carlos, you must know that _**all**_ of us wish for both you _**and**_ your sweetheart to be as happy as possible on this most special of nights. And since it is well known that she does not share your culinary tastes yet, everyone concurred that serving her the foods she liked the most would soften her up for you. It also shows our willingness to meet her needs the same way we meet yours. Are you not pleased?"**

Ranger took a deep breath and it seemed as though he was going to say something harsh. Instead, he only nodded and then said, "That's fine for tonight, Túlio. Thank you for your _**extreme**_ consideration. I know that Miss Stephanie definitely appreciates it."

"Oh yes!" I quickly chimed in, not wanting the man to be in any trouble, "Everything looks and smells fantastic, Túlio. These are some of my very favorite foods. Thank you so much!"

With that, Túlio smiled at Ranger, gave me a wink and then he disappeared back down to the galley. I enjoyed every bite of the macaroni and cheese and I ate all but the last slice of ham. I wondered what 'Señor Carlos' had said to the chef to prevent him from making what obviously was supposed to have been pineapple upside down cake. Nevertheless, the chopped pineapple and cherries tasted sweet enough to count as dessert - but I _**wasn't**_ going to let Ranger know that!

As we both finished our meal, Ranger reached across the table and held my left hand. He was telling me about Biscayne Bay and something else about a key, too, but I couldn't concentrate. While he talked, he had begun, almost absentmindedly, to gently stroke my bare ring finger. Omigod! My heart almost stopped. This was it! I suddenly realized that this was when Ranger was going to ask me to marry him for real. Every fiber of my being knew it and I started to tremble.

Wrinkling his brow, Ranger looked into my eyes and said, "You're trembling, Babe. What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," I lied.

"Babe, you know I can tell when you're lying to me, right?"

"You can? Since when?"

"Since the moment we first met."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, tell me, why are you trembling? Was it something I said earlier?"

"N-no. It's wh-what you're about t-to say." I couldn't get my mouth to work properly and that was very annoying.

"You think you know what I'm about to say?"

"M-maybe."

"Alright, then. Let's see," Ranger said as he slid off of his chair and down onto one knee, still holding on to my left hand. Then he took a small velvet box out of his pocket and popped it open for me with his free hand. "This is the ring with which Papí Súarez proposed to Abuela Blanca. Before she died, she told me to soften my heart and she dared me to love someone special. After she died, she left this ring to me in her will."

"Oh, Carlos!" I could barely breathe, but I managed to say, "It's s-so beautiful! I ... I ca--"

"Let me finish, please," Ranger interrupted me and he held my gaze as he continued to speak, "Babe, you are the most special person in my life and I love you more than anyone else in this entire world. I don't want to waste any more time waking up without you next to me in my bed. Stephanie Michelle Plum, would you do me the honor of marrying me and becoming the woman with whom I will share the rest of my life?" Then he set the boxed ring on the table in front of me.

I was trying very hard to control myself, but a single tear escaped and rolled down my cheek anyway. Ranger reached across, caught the teardrop on the tip of his finger and then touched it to his tongue. Apparently, he liked the way it tasted because he smiled at me and waited patiently for my answer.

Insanity runs in my family. That's the only reason I could come up with for why I said to Ranger, "I l-love you, too, Carlos, but ... but first, I have to ask _**you**_ about something important."

As soon as the deranged thought popped into my head, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself from asking the same crazy question which had led to such a big fight in my previous relationship with Joe Morelli. Smart Stephanie felt that it was unfair to ask this question again. Honestly, though, Stupid Stephanie _**had**_ to know what Ranger would say.

He raised an eyebrow at me and said, "Anything, Babe. I promised to answer all of your questions while we're here."

I took a deep breath and said, "I love waking up next to you, too, Carlos, but suppose ... for some reason we ... couldn't have sex. Would you still love me? Would you still want to be married to me?"

He slid closer to me, wrapped his other hand around our clasped hands and said, "Stephanie, in case you haven't noticed, I've loved you without much hope of having sex with you for a very, _**very**_ long time. It nearly killed me to know that you were in the arms of another man when I wanted you so badly to be in **_my_** arms. I'll always love you, Babe; no matter what happens down the road. We make a good team - you and I, both in and out of the bed - and there are many facets of my love for you. As many as on the stones of this ring - maybe even more." And he nodded toward his grandmother's sparkling ring.

I glanced over at the ring and saw the way the candlelight reflected off the many surfaces of the diamond and sapphires. Even though the stones were small, they were exquisitely cut and dazzling in the light. Ranger had answered me perfectly, but he was still speaking.

"I've told you before that my love for you isn't confined to the bed, Babe," he continued. "But I'll find ways to let you know that I mean what I say, if it's that important to you. I've also told you that due to one of my past missions, it's quite possible that I'll never be able to father another child. So, while we're asking these kinds of questions, you should ask yourself: Would you still love _**me**_ if I couldn't give you children? Would you still want to be married to **_me_**?"

"Yes, of course, I would!" I said. "Carlos, in case _**you**_ haven't noticed, I'm not entirely certain that I want any children of my own. In fact, that was one of the biggest causes of disagreements between me and Joe."

Ranger's gaze turned hard for a moment and he said, "Speaking of Morelli; I'm not foolish enough to forbid you from seeing him - he's been an important part of your life for such a long time and he's really your friend. But, Babe, that's all he can ever be from this moment forward - just a friend and nothing, _**nothing**_ more. I hope you can understand and comply with my wishes - otherwise, things **_will_** get ugly."

"Well, since you put it _**that**_ way," I said impishly, "I think it's only fair to tell you that while the Morelli men have fairly loose morals when it comes to the single ladies, I've never heard of any of them messing around with **_married_** women." Then I smiled at Ranger and held my breath.

He searched my eyes and returned my smile, "I still need for you to answer my original question, Babe. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, Carlos, I will," I replied and the air whooshed out of my lungs when Ranger crushed me to his chest in a tight embrace.

Papí had been right; even though the moon wasn't at its fullest, it certainly was romantic-looking. Glancing over Ranger's shoulder, I also noticed how bright the moon was as its light reflected off the water's surface. I forgot all about the beautiful and scenic view, though, when Ranger's lips finally found their way to mine and we sealed our engagement with a long and deeply fulfilling kiss.

After he released me, he took Abuela Blanca's ring out of the box and slowly slid it onto my ring finger. It was a very tight fit and I knew I'd only be able to wear it for a short time, but at least I knew that the precious heirloom wouldn't accidentally fall off of my finger in the shower or when we went dancing at the club. Nevertheless, Ranger assured me that we would go shopping for our own wedding bands very soon. That thought filled me with both joy and terror, but I pushed it aside and decided to sort through those emotions later.

We soon abandoned the dinner table and went down to our cabin. Ranger asked me to wait outside the door while he quickly did something inside of the room. I could hear Papí snoring in his room as I nervously stood in the narrow corridor and realized that the rooms weren't very sound-proof. Normally, I would have been freaking out right about now. I had just said 'yes' to Ricardo Carlos Mañoso and in three days I probably would marry my 'Batman' for real and forever. Part of my brain thought: Omigod! But the other, smarter part of my brain told me to look at the ring on my finger and realize that this move was good and right for me.

When Ranger ushered me into the cabin, I gasped. The room was huge and there was a king-sized bed with the sheets already turned down, waiting for me to take my nap before we went out later that night. There also must have been twenty lit candles, spread all around the room, all of them and giving off a familiar scent along with their soft, warm glow.

"Is that ... are those _**Bulgari-scented**_ candles?" I asked him and he rewarded me with another 200-watt smile as he peeled off my clothes and led me into the large walk-in shower. Then Ranger kept his promise to make me feel completely satisfied and relaxed before I took my nap.

My last coherent thoughts before I drifted off to sleep were all about my current location. At that moment, I was safely nestled in the arms of the man who loved me the most. We were lying in an incredibly comfortable bed, deep within the belly of a fabulous yacht. And the name of this yacht happened to be the _Batcave_, although, at this point, the vessel seemed to be more of a _Love Boat_ than anything else. And I rather liked thinking of it that way.

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A/N: In case you haven't guessed, I'm a researcher at heart, and while I was browsing through my local public library before the snows fell (yes, feeding my addiction, as usual), I came across a few editions of the magazines, _**Coastal Living**_** and **_**Motor Boating. **_**These gave me a better sense of the yachting and boating scene around southern Florida, the Keyes and the Caribbean - information I plan to use as we go along. BTW, West Point is my alma mater (Class of 1985) and I happen to know several 'Gray Hogs', so I had a lot of fun 'decorating' my mental image of Ranger's nautical **_**Batcave**_**. As always, I'd love to know what you think. Thanks! :D**


	18. Chapter 18

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. I'm only doing this for the fun of it.**

**A/N: Yikes! This has been such a crazy week for me! Thankfully, my kids have returned to school after having EIGHT snow days **_**and**_** a week of two-hour delays **_**and **_**a federal holiday off. Since then I've been running around like a madwoman, doing a thousand errands and cleaning up my wreck of a house. It was nice to be able to write in peace again, although I only could crank out a **_**much **_**shorter chapter than I've been offering to you lately. Anyway, this little filler chappie is in Tank's POV. Enjoy! :D**

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"Tank will also outfit you with a gun," Ranger said. "I expect you to carry it. And I expect it to be loaded. We have a practice range in the basement. Once a week I expect you to visit the practice range."

_I snapped him a salute. "Aye, aye, sir!"_

_"Don't let the rest of the men see you being a smart-ass," Ranger said. "They're not allowed."_

_"I'm allowed?"_

_"I have no illusions over my ability to control you. Just try to keep the power play private, so you don't undermine my authority with my men." _

_Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 18: The Secret-keeper

Ranger and I have been friends for a very long time. We weren't always the best of friends, but guys tend to get closer when they've saved each other's lives a few times. There aren't but a few people I trust with any of my deepest secrets and Range is one of them. I keep a lot of his secrets, too; however, lately I haven't lived up to my duties as a secret-keeper.

On Friday, Doctor O'Neill surprised us here at RangeMan when he dropped in for a very quick visit. He and his wife, Barbara, were driving back to their home in Atlanta after attending a medical conference up in Boston. On their way down, they had decided to check on their son, who was a freshman at Temple University in nearby Philadelphia. They apologized for the short notice and the doctor assured me that he still planned to come back to Trenton for his regularly-scheduled visit.

When I informed Doc O'Neill that Ranger was out on a short R & R trip, the man said that he was glad to hear that my boss was taking some time off now. He said it was important and necessary. Nevertheless, I knew that Ranger wouldn't be happy when he found out that he'd missed an opportunity to talk to the physician who had been treating us every since our last FUBAR mission to Colombia.

The main reason the doctor wanted to see the guys from our old SF team was so that he could draw some samples from us and take them back to his lab for more tests. It was no big deal to gather up Bobbie, Lester, and Vince, because they lived here in the building. We had to wait for Benny and Roy, though, to come in from their apartments in town before we all could meet in the conference room where the doctor explained his latest theories.

The meeting didn't take very long. All of us knew the drill and we did what we needed to do to produce the sort of samples the doctor wanted to collect from us. He had some kind of high-tech storage chest with him to keep all the samples safe and viable during his return trip to Atlanta. Three hours after they had arrived at RangeMan, the Doc and his wife were back on the road.

After the meeting ended, I stayed in the conference table and pulled out my Blackberry to check on the latest status report from Gonzo. His message said that everyone at the Miami office had enjoyed meeting Stephanie and that she and Ranger appeared to be very happy when they left the building to go to the county courthouse. I knew she'd charm those guys down there the same way she had endeared herself to us up here in Trenton. Life with 'Mrs. Ranger' promised to be quite an adventure - for all of us.

Gonzo and I knew that Ranger planned to get a marriage license ASAP so that he could start the clock on his three-day waiting period. One of Gonzo's cousins on his father's side of the family was a receptionist for a Justice of the Peace and she had promised to notify him as soon as the happy couple tied the knot. Once that happened, then he'd send me an updated SitRep.

Even though I wanted to send Ranger another text message to encourage him to stay on-course, I resisted. I wasn't really supposed to know exactly what was going on - at least, not to this level of detail. And although my best friend and boss wasn't one hundred percent sure that Stephanie would go all the way through with a 'quickie' wedding, I had a much higher level of confidence. Everyone knew that the Bombshell BEA was crazy about him. Glancing down at my watch, I figured that they were having a very good time together and I smiled.

"Hey, man, whatcha smiling at?" Bobby's voice surprised me and I looked up.

"Oh, nothin'," I lied and watched him as he walked over to me.

"Come on, Tank, spill it," he said. "When you get _**that**_ kind of smile on your face, something real good is going on. Don't hold out on me, man."

I quickly considered the consequences of passing on my 'privileged information' and decided that I probably could trust Bobby with such a secret. If it had been Lester, I would have closed up tighter than a clam, especially since he belongs to Ranger's extensive family and the temptation to tell his other relatives would be too overwhelming for him to resist. Still, I opted for a 'loophole' compromise and motioned for Bobby to look over my shoulder at Gonzo's message on my Blackberry's screen.

"For the record, I didn't _**say **_a word about this, understand?" I said as I slid the electronic device over to his side of the table. "You just **_happened_** to be passing by and saw this message by mistake. Not a word to anyone else, Brown, or the two of us will be meeting down on the mats at the crack of dawn for the next month."

"Hooah!" Bobby said and he nodded his understanding. His eyes flew wide open as he absorbed the full meaning behind Gonzo's message.

"Not. One. Word." I reiterated in a stern tone of voice.

"Not one word about what?" Vince said as he poked his head inside the doorway of the conference room.

"They're _**finally**_ getting married," Bobby said and then he clamped his hand over his mouth.

I hung my head and swore. "I thought I could trust you, Brown!"

Bobby's face looked genuinely chagrined. "I'm sorry, Tank. It just slipped out. I didn't mean--"

"Just shut up!" I growled as Vince strolled into the conference room and approached us.

"You and Lula finally kissed and made up, huh?" Vince asked.

My head snapped up and my mouth fell open. "What? _**Lula**_? No!"

"Not Lula?" Vince said. "But I thought you two were ... oh, well. Then who's fool enough to marry _**you**_, Tank?"

"Who's marrying Tank?" Lester said as he peeked inside the door. He had seen that the conference room lights were still on and had come down the hall to investigate. Now he sauntered over to us with a big grin on his face, ready to hear all the 'gory' details.

I slammed my forehead against the smooth wooden surface of the conference table a few times. Then I looked around at the three 'Nosy Nellies' in the room with me and swore again. Bobby shook his head and began laughing so hard he couldn't speak. I finally gave up and started to laugh, too.

Now Vince looked confused and asked, "What's so damn funny?"

"Benjamin Franklin was right when he said that three may keep a secret," I said, trying to sound wise and profound through my laughter. "But only if two of them are dead."

Lester scratched his head and said, "I don't get it."

Vince shrugged and said, "Me neither. I was just passing by and I overheard Bobby say something about Tank finally getting married, so I just assumed that the unlucky lady was Lula and now these guys are laughing at me. It's pretty friggin' rude, I tell ya'!"

"What's _**really**_ going on in here?" Lester demanded to know. "Is somebody getting married or what?"

"Yeah," Vince chimed in, "Because we all know that if _**somebody**_ is getting hitched around here, then _**somebody**_ needs a bachelor party - ASAP!" He was staring hard at me, but I only shook my head in horrified denial.

"Hooah!" Both Lester and Bobby cheered.

I scowled at Bobby and his facial expression sobered up immediately. This whole thing was getting out of hand quickly and I knew I was about to lose control of the situation. Damn! Ranger was going to _**kill **_me! What a colossal failure of a secret-keeper I had turned out to be.

"Hello?" Ella peeked into the room and announced that she had just placed a tray of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. She sometimes did this when Ranger was away. It was our little secret with the wonderful woman who took such good care of us. However, she frowned at us when she noticed the expressions on all of our faces.

"I can see that this is _**not**_ official business," Ella said as she stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. "You boys are up to no good. Whenever my own sons used to look like this, I knew they were getting ready to do something they shouldn't. Now, what's going on in here?"

I was just about to give some lame answer to Ella when Julio, the man on duty at the front desk, buzzed the intercom and told me that an irate woman named Lula was demanding to see me downstairs in the lobby. I told Julio that I was in a meeting and it might take a while before I could break away. The guys in the conference room burst out laughing when we all heard Lula's voice in the background, ranting and raving as Julio to try to calm her down.

"I don't care about no stupid meeting!" Lula shrieked, pounding on the desk for emphasis. "You tell Tank he'd better get his sorry ass down here right now! I need to talk to him about _**his**_ boss eloping with _**my**_ best friend and nobody telling me nothin'! I _**know **_he knows what's going on. Tank, I know you can hear me, too! Tank?"

"Miss, um ... ah, Lula?" We heard Julio say, "If you'd just sign in--"

"Sign in?" She yelled and we all leaned away from the speaker console on the conference table. "Everybody but you in this damn building knows who I am!" There was a brief moment of silence and I could just imagine her trying to stare the man down. "Alright, alright," Lula finally said, "since you want to be that way, _**Pierre**_! Let's see how you deal with _**this!**_" Then we all heard what sounded like the sign-in roster being torn to shreds.

I winced. Poor Julio! He was one of the newest guys, so he didn't know anything about my history with the madwoman at his desk. I sighed and told him I'd come down to the lobby in a moment. First, I sent off a quick note to inform Ranger that Lula had somehow found out about part of his elopement plan and that I was going to investigate where the 'leak' was. I _**didn't**_ tell my boss about Gonzo's message to me or about my own 'security breach' here in the building.

"Just kill me now!" I groaned. "Before either Lula or Ranger gets their hands on me. I'm a dead man for sure, either way." Then I stood up and took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

Bobby patted my shoulder in a comforting gesture, but he and the other guys were still laughing. They, too, knew that I was doomed and they thought it was funny. I shook my head in disbelief as I slowly walked down the hallway. Ella caught up with me before I entered the elevator to go downstairs and she gave me a small plate with a pile of cookies on it.

"It's a 'peace offering' for your lady friend," she explained. "She really cares about her friend. We _**all **_care very much for Miss Stephanie. Ranger should have known better than to be so sneaky like this."

"Yeah, but he trusted me to keep his secrets," I said woefully. "And I've failed my mission miserably."

Ella shook her head in disagreement. "Nonsense, Tank! It's obvious that someone else knew about - and blabbed about - Ranger's schemes, too. Don't worry; I'm sure that everything will be alright. In fact, we'll have a nice surprise waiting for the newlyweds when they return." Then she waved at me as the elevator doors closed.

Cripes! What if they _**weren't**_ actually newlyweds when they returned to Trenton? Ranger had told me that he wanted to keep everything on the 'down-low' until he and Stephanie settled everything. Unfortunately, there was no doubt in my mind that the 'cat' was _**way**_ out of the bag now, so to speak. I didn't even want to think about what Ranger was going to do to me after this news made all the rounds.

First, Stephanie invaded our RangeMan building. Now, Lula had barged her way in here. Eventually, these crazy, uncontrollable women were going to be the death of us all! Oh well, I told myself, I might be dead in a few minutes anyway - after Lula finished with me - so I may as well go out happy. I quickly popped one of Ella's awesome cookies into my mouth and savored its chocolaty goodness. Then I waited for the elevator to cast me out into the jaws of my fate.

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A/N: Congrats to 'kjen' - even though she hadn't logged in - who sent me the three-hundredth review! Many thanks to you, 'kjen' and to everyone else for taking the time to tell me what you like about my story, as well as hints and recommendations for improvement. I truly appreciate all of your input. Again, thank you all for the many encouraging reviews; they kept me motivated to write at least a little something this week. Hopefully, my next chapter will be a bit longer. As always, please let me know what you think of my work. Thanks! :D


	19. Chapter 19

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. All of the song lyrics belong to the artists who wrote and recorded the various pieces of music which I've quoted in this chapter, and I have credited them as such.**

**A/N: I'm glad that so many of you enjoyed my little detour back to Trenton, but now I'm taking you forward again to the action in Miami. The soundtrack playing in my head as I wrote this long chapter was heavily-laden with classic salsa music from Tito Puente and Celia Cruz, as well as 'vintage' Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine, ABBA, Enrique Iglesias, Marc Anthony, Ricky Martin, and, of course, Madonna. I had loads of fun listening to my iPod while writing these scenes, so I encourage you to put on some tropical Latin tunes while you read this chapter and 'get into the groove' for yourself. FYI, I'll be switching POVs back and forth between Ranger and Stephanie again. Enjoy! :D**

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Ranger was strong inside and out. He was intelligent. He was brave. He was physically and emotionally agile. He was incredibly sexy. He was deceptively playful. But more than anything, Ranger reeked of bad boy. It would take a lot more than a cashmere sports coat and an Armani tie to offset the testosterone and male pheromones that leaked out of him. I doubted Ranger would ever be entirely respectable.

_Lean Mean Thirteen_

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**Chapter 19: Bad Boys**

**Ranger's POV**

The steady chirping sound of my wristwatch alarm pulled me into wakefulness and I had to resist the urge to fling the blasted thing across the cabin. The backlit display read 2145 hours (_9:45 p.m._), which meant that our 'power' nap had lasted for slightly more than an hour. It would have been nice to just sleep through the night for a change, especially since I finally was able to hold the woman I loved in my arms the whole time.

Dios! Stephanie looked so sexy with her wild hair splayed across the pillow. My watch alarm hadn't blasted through her dream-state and she continued to sleep deeply. Although my Babe was tired and the temptation to roll over and forget about going to the club was intense, I knew that Val and Cat would be extremely disappointed if we failed to show up tonight. Using every shred of self-discipline I possessed, I forced myself out of the warm, comfortable bed.

After a quick shower, I dried off and padded back into the cabin to find Stephanie wide awake and staring out of one of the port-hole windows. She looked so beautiful with the moonlight streaming in and illuminating her face with silvery glow. Her hair was still a bit wild, but I loved it. She had wrapped a light blanket around her bare body like she was wearing a Roman-style toga.

I quietly walked up behind her and slid my arms around her waist. "What's so interesting out there, Babe?"

She cuddled into my embrace and whispered in a voice full of awe and delight, "Dolphins! A whole bunch of them!"

"Dolphins like to be around pretty ladies - or so I'm told," I quietly spoke into her ear, "They must have heard that you're aboard this boat."

"They ... they're beautiful!"

"Yes, you are." I nuzzled her neck and kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear.

She turned around in my arms and said, "Are you _**sure**_ we have to go back to New Jersey so soon after we get married? I want to stay here where it's nice and warm and exciting!"

My heart did a little flip at the realization that my Babe had just revealed to me her intention of marrying me before we returned to Trenton. I'd be flying back home with _**my wife**_. That thought sent a thrilling shiver through my body. Stephanie felt my body tremble and then she finally took notice of the fact that, other than the damp towel wrapped around my neck, I was completely naked.

"Omigod, Carlos! No wonder you're shivering. You must be freezing!"

I shrugged and said, "Not really, Babe; and certainly not with you here in my arms."

Like a cat, she rubbed the side of her face against my bare chest and then purred, "Mmm. You smell so nice. Do we have time to--?"

Although it wasn't exactly the smartest thing for me to do at this point, I pulled her back down onto the bed and let nature take its course. Afterward, Steph snuggled against me and sighed contentedly. Her fingers were tracing little circles on my chest and I was shocked that my body was already ready. I had never wanted a woman as much as I still wanted my Babe. By my count, we had made love _**eight**_ times since this morning and neither of us showed any signs of being too tired or sore to go at it again.

She smiled sweetly up at me and asked, "Can't we stay another week? Please?"

Using skills I had honed to perfection while on long military deployments, I ignored the desires of my body and said, "I'd love to, Babe, but we can't stay here past Wednesday. We have to be in court on Thursday so that the case against our little break-in artists can go to trial sooner. And then there's my Grandma Rosa's birthday party on Friday night. That's the best opportunity for me to introduce you to the Newark side of the family all at one time. And believe me; we want to get that ordeal over with ASAP."

"Ordeal? Meeting the rest of your family is going to be an ordeal?"

"It probably won't be so bad for you - they're going to_** love**_ you. It's me they're going to harass, and rightly so. This'll be the second time I've gone off and gotten married and didn't tell them until afterward."

"You're a _**bad**_ boy, Carlos Mañoso!"

"Yes, but lucky for me, I'm the kind of bad boy you like." Then I rolled out of the bed and pulled Steph to her feet.

She pouted at me and asked, "But what about our honeymoon, Carlos? Since we aren't going to have a _**real **_wedding, at least we should have a real honeymoon."

I smiled and hugged her to me. "I promise you, Babe, we'll have a real honeymoon after we take care of these other obligations," I assured her. "Meanwhile, you can think of this off-line time as a little preview of things to come."

"Hmm," she said and I practically could see the wheels turning in her head.

A sudden, sobering thought sent a chill through me. What if my Babe really wanted us to have a big, fancy wedding? One with all the craziness that was certain to accompany such an event - especially if both her mother _**and**_ my mother became involved in all the planning? Although I had hoped we could get it over and done with before Steph wavered, she needed to know that I was open to other options.

Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and asked, "Steph, are you ... disappointed that we're going to the Justice of the Peace to get married? We could ... wait and have a regular wedding. We don't _**have**_ to elope, you know."

"Oh, yes, we do!" She quickly answered. "You heard my father. Don't you know what will happen if we return in an unmarried state? Utter chaos, that's what! And after the fiasco with Valerie and Albert, I'm not giving _**anyone**_ the chance to screw this up for us."

"But I want you to know that there's no rush," I told her as I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "If you decide you want to wait, then we'll wait. I just want you to be happy, Babe."

"I _**am**_ happy," she hugged me tighter and said, "I can't describe how happy I am right now." Then she began to think out loud, "Oh! Maybe we can come back down here after the holidays are over. By then, we'll have made all the rounds to all the family events and _**proved**_ to everyone that we really are happily married."

"What makes you think that anyone won't believe us?" I asked. It always was fun to listen to her when she was thinking aloud.

She looked surprised and gasped, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

When I nodded and smiled at her, she rolled her eyes at me and said "Oh, pul-eeze! This is my _**mother**_, Helen Plum - the original skeptic of the Burg - we're talking about. We probably should ask the Justice of the Peace here to send her a notarized copy of our marriage certificate, but she'll still watch us like a hawk to see if we're truly happy together."

I picked up my wristwatch, glanced at its display and shook my head. We already had used up the 'cushion' of time that I'd planned for our evening and I knew I would have to rush Stephanie into the shower. Even if we hurried, we'd barely be able to leave the marina and get to the club on time.

"I'm so sorry to have to do this to you again, Babe, but we've got to get ready to go _**right now**_," I said, "If we're going to make it to Val's show on time, we're going to have to hurry like you've never done before - even faster than this morning. Remember what Cat said about crowd control? We _**don't**_ want to be late."

"How much time do we have to get ready?" She turned to me and asked as she gathered her bags and other assorted items.

"Not much, Babe. Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty - tops."

"Carlos!" She was horrified and rightly so. "For crying out loud! That's hardly any time at all! What were you thinking?"

I smiled and said, "I was thinking that you looked pretty damn sexy all wrapped up in that make-shift toga when I came out of the shower earlier. And _**you**_ certainly didn't have any complaints at that time. Besides, I was merely upholding my end of our bargain to deal with your dessert cravings in the agreed-upon manner."

Steph scowled at me, but I pulled her into the cabin's luxurious head and we proceeded to take the quickest, no-nonsense shower ever. Then I leapt out of the stall, grabbed a towel and left her to finish getting ready on her own. I also told her to lock the door behind me before I could change my mind.

My Babe never disappoints and she appeared in less than fifteen minutes, wearing a super-hot red dress which clung to her curves in a way that made me wish we didn't have anywhere to go. She also had on a black-and-red crystal necklace with matching earrings dangling from her earlobes. The majority of her slightly-damp, brown curls were piled on top of her head, with several strands hanging loose in a sexy way. I'd definitely be sending out 'stay-away-from-my-woman' vibes all night long.

I was very impressed and nodded my approval. And from the smile she gave me in return, I think she was just as impressed with my appearance. Of course, I was dressed in black, but everything was suitable for the South Beach dance club scene. The only thing I was wearing that wasn't black was the diamond stud in my earlobe.

"Is this some sort of Florida or Cuban style?" Steph asked as she slid the palm of her hand down the front of my black linen shirt. "I've seen a lot of men down here, like Papí and Silvio, wearing similar shirts."

"It's called a guayabera shirt," I replied and gently tucked her hand into mine. If she touched me like that again, we wouldn't leave the _Batcave_ at all. "They're very traditional and very popular throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. You like?"

She smiled and nodded at me as I led her out of the cabin and into the corridor. "It looks great on you," she said. "Why don't you wear these kinds of shirts when you're in Trenton?"

"I like to maintain a ...different image up north," I said. "Too many 'wise guys' wear knock-offs of the guayabera style."

"Oh," she said. Then she tilted her head to the side while she thought about what I'd just told her. "Oh yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I _**have**_ seen some of the old mobsters wearing similar shirts."

I grinned and said, "I blame 'The Sopranos'."

"You're probably right," she said and turned her head as Papí emerged from his cabin.

"Good evening, young people," he greeted us. "I trust that Túlio served you a fine dinner."

"Yes, Papí!" Steph exclaimed. "It was the best! And look - Carlos proposed to me!" She held up her left hand for my grandfather to see Abuela Blanca's ring on her finger. Then she narrowed her eyes at him and said, "But I'll bet you already knew what was going to happen, didn't you?"

Papí grinned. His eyes misted over and he nodded. "I had a feeling," he said, his voice cracking a little. "Congratulations to both of you! May God grant you even more happiness than my Blanca and I shared during her lifetime." And then he hugged each of us in turn.

I noticed the small duffle bag Papí had slung over his shoulder and I asked him about it. He shrugged and told us that he had decided to stay on dry land for the weekend. He claimed to have a full day of teaching his various great-grandsons how to play the tumbadoras and he didn't want to hold us up. Stephanie began to protest, saying that she didn't intend on waking up before noon, so Papí needn't worry about hindering our plans, but he wouldn't hear of it.

"No, no, no," Papí said with conviction. "You certainly may sleep as long as you wish, but when you wake up, you'll be quite a bit offshore. Captain Bob plans to cast off in the morning so that Carlos may catch your dinner. He knows a place where the red snapper fish will practically jump into the boat for you. Go and have fun! I'll catch up with you two on Monday. Now, we'd better get going or all the best seats will be taken." Then we followed him up the stairs to the main deck, walked down the gangway and onto the pier.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Stephanie's POV**

Fifteen minutes! I couldn't believe that I'd gotten completely ready to go out for an evening of entertainment and dancing in such a short amount of time. It was difficult not to pat myself on the back, but then I realized what I'd done and I instantly sobered up. Damn! Now that Ranger had seen that I _**could**_ get ready very quickly, he'd probably start to expect that level of proficiency from me on a more regular basis.

I pushed those negative thoughts out of my head, though, as our car crept along the busy street, which was filled all kinds of people out for a good time on this balmy Friday night. We arrived at the club a half-hour after the doors had opened and there already was quite a line of people waiting to get in. After Ranger drove around the block and parked the car in one of the employee spaces at the back of the club, Papí used his pass key to enter through the dance studio. He smiled and waved at us as he disappeared inside.

Then Ranger escorted me as we walked back around the block to go in through the club's front entrance. Even though Gonzo and his team were on the job tonight, we wanted to appear to be regular patrons, just in case we spotted Tommy Galarza. Besides, everyone clearly wanted me to have the full South Beach experience at _¡Caliente!_ and I decided to enjoy every minute of it.

We could hear the heavy bass beat of fast-paced music as we approached the long line of people going into the club through its brightly-lit front entrance. Ranger bent down to tell me that we'd be dancing to salsa tunes prior to Val's show and then to Madonna's disco-mixed songs afterward. Tiny beads of sweat popped out on my upper lip. Somehow, I had forgotten about the dancing part of our evening.

Ranger cut his eyes to me and said, "If _**you**_ won't dance with me, Babe, I might just have to take a spin around the dance floor with women who_** are**_ willing."

"Over my dead body," I said through gritted teeth.

The thought of seeing my _**fiancé**_ dancing those sexy Latin dances with anybody else was infuriating to me. There was no way I was going to let any other ladies get their hands on Ranger tonight. He was_** all **_mine - even if I had to embarrass myself on the dance floor to prove it.

"I told you before, Babe, I won't let you embarrass yourself," Ranger purred into my ear and I could feel the smile on his lips.

Crap! I'd spoken my thoughts aloud - again. I slid my hand into his and he brought it up to his lips to kiss it. That made me feel a bit better, but I still was nervous.

"Good evening, sir, ma'am," said the bouncer as we reached the front of the line. "We hope you'll enjoy your time with us at _¡Caliente!_ tonight."

I looked up at the man and instantly recognized him as one of the RangeMan guys that I'd met this morning. Glancing around, I could see that at least three other Miami Merry Men were acting as bouncers for the club tonight. Ranger saw the gleam in my eyes and nodded his head.

"Yes, they're ours, but don't act like you know them," he whispered into my ear. "Gonzo sent me a text message saying that the Galarza men and their entourage requested a VIP booth near the stage for tonight's show. Our guys have studied every photo we possess and we hope to make a quiet bust as soon as someone can isolate Tommy Galarza. Everyone is on the look-out for our skip - especially Val."

"But we're still off-line, right?" I asked as we entered the club.

"Hell, yeah, Babe. We'll let the Miami crew handle this job. We're just here to do a little dancing and to see my cousin's show." Then he pulled me to him and kissed me.

I heard a loud wolf-whistle and then a voice calling to us from somewhere across the room, "Over here!"

Cat, who was wearing a dazzling silver-sequined dress, was waving at us. Papí was sitting at the table next to her. It was one of four or five mostly empty VIP booths in the club and the regular tables were filling up quickly. It was a good thing that we were well-connected to the people in charge of admission.

"Hey!" I yanked on Ranger's arm and pulled him down to my level so that I could hiss in his ear. "If Cat was saving us a place at her table, why did we have to rush to get here? It seems to me that we could have taken a _**little**_ more time to get ready."

Ranger shook his head and said, "No way, Babe. That crowd outside the club is only going to get worse. It'll double in size every ten minutes until the bouncers have to turn people away. Trust me; we _**barely**_ got here in time."

"Humph!" I truly hated to admit that he was right, but the place _**was **_becoming crowded very quickly. Even though Cat's booth had a great view of the stage, we had to squeeze past several full tables to get there. A lot of people were dancing, too, and I wondered where they'd all sit once Val's show began.

"Carlos! Stephanie!" Cat greeted us with big hugs and kisses as we finally arrived at the booth. "You look _**fabulous**_, girl! Red is definitely your color. Very hot! _**And **_I hear congratulations are in order."

Ranger nodded and I said, "Thank you."

Cat shook her head and said, "Well, after I saw you two dancing together this afternoon, I'm not surprised. But I want to see the ring!" And she grasped my left hand to examine it. Tears filled her dark eyes and she smiled at Ranger. Then she hugged me again and pulled me into the booth where she and Papí were sitting. Ranger squeezed in beside me and ordered some drinks for all of us from a passing server.

"So, when's the wedding?" Cat asked. "Have you two decided on a date or a location yet? I'll bet your families are excited!"

This felt a little like dangerous ground to me and I wasn't sure what to say. Obviously, our plans were going to disappoint a lot of people, both in Trenton and Miami. I didn't want to fib to Cat and Papí, but I didn't want to tell anyone that we'd already planned on eloping, either. I glanced at Ranger and he shook his head the slightest bit.

"Well," I began, "Carlos only proposed to me at dinner earlier this evening and ... and I haven't even called my parents to tell them the good news yet. They, um, go to bed early."

"I can't wait to tell Val!" Cat gushed. "Oh! Let's pass the info to him on an index card during the show so that he'll make the announcement himself!" Her face was bright with mischief and excitement.

"What?" I said at the same time Ranger said, "No!"

Cat waved her hand dismissively at Ranger and answered my question, "Val always takes time during the show to acknowledge patrons who are here to celebrate special occasions, such as birthdays, anniversaries, bachelor parties and such. Everyone loves it, especially when he's dressed up like Madonna-as-Marilyn-Monroe in a long gown and faux diamonds. It'll be so much fun to see Val's face when he reads the card!"

"No way, Cat. No cards," Ranger reiterated. "Stephanie and I are _**not**_ ready to announce our plans. It's not like anyone needs to know anything tonight while our parents are unaware of our engagement. Do you want us to get in trouble with the folks back home in Jersey, or what? We'll tell Val after the show, but I forbid you to blab our personal business to a club full of strangers."

"Dios! You don't have to be so testy!" Cat protested. "It's all in good fun."

Papí patted Cat on her arm in a placating gesture and said, "Think, Cátarina; Carlos is right. His men have a job to do here tonight and it wouldn't be good to announce his presence in the club. Some people might remember his name from the time when his daughter was kidnapped. They might also remember that Carlos is a bounty hunter. Surely, you don't want to jeopardize his mission or Val, for that matter."

Sighing, Cat nodded her head. "I'm sorry, cousin. I wasn't thinking about the whole deal with Val trying to identify Tommy Galarza and your guys trying to capture the runaway scum. Still, I'm very excited for you and Stephanie and I wish we could share this good news with everybody."

"All in good time, Cat," Ranger assured her. "All in good time."

Our drinks arrived, but I'd barely had the chance to take a sip when Ranger stood up. Then he pulled me to my feet and led me through the crowded tables toward the packed dance floor. He pretended not to hear my protests and before I knew what had happened, one of his hands was on my back and the other was holding my hand and we were dancing to the lively music.

I was too bewildered to say anything once Ranger began to move me around. Sometimes he held me close to his muscular body and other times there was more space between us. Of course, I had no idea how the Man of Mystery was able to make it seem as though I could dance, too, but just when I finally began to relax, the music faded into the background. Ranger dragged me back through the crush of people toward our booth.

A melodious voice came over the club's speaker system and said, "Welcome to _¡Caliente!_ - where the Mambo Kings and the Disco Queens bump booties on the hot dance floor! This evening's show will begin in approximately ten minutes, so grab a seat - your own seat and not anyone else's, if you catch my drift - and let's get ready to get into the groove!" Then he said something in Spanish and I realized that it was same greeting. It was a man's sexy voice on the speakers and as I listened to the announcement in Spanish, I realized that the voice belonged to Val.

"You're getting better at following Carlos' lead, Stephanie," Cat remarked as we sat down in our booth. I took a long sip from my rum-and-coke drink, but then had to choke it down when she added slyly, "Of course, the vertical moves become _**so**_ much easier once the horizontal moves have reached a high level of proficiency. And from the look on Carlos face, you two have had some practice doing the _**horizontals**_ since I last saw you this afternoon."

Ranger laughed aloud, "It's good to see that you haven't lost your touch, Cat." He tipped his glass toward Cat in a saluting gesture and then he said, "Now it's official, Babe; once Cat 'sharpens her claws' on you, she considers you to be a member of the family."

Cat smiled at me and it seemed as though she was going to say something else when the house lights dimmed. Val, looking devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo, strutted onstage and bowed toward the audience. As he welcomed everyone to _¡Caliente!_ again, the peppy strains of a familiar party song came on and most of his supporting cast danced out onto the stage and encouraged the people in the club to sing along, especially the refrain.

_**Olé, olé! Olé, olé! ... Feelin' hot, hot, hot! ... How you feelin'? Hot! Hot! Hot!**_

I knew I'd heard the tropical-sounding music before, but this version seemed to go on for an extra-long time. I actually liked the tune and it made sense for the club to use the Buster Poindexter song since the club's name meant 'hot' anyway. Spotlights lit up the entire stage where several dancers now moved around using a variety of dance steps. When the music changed to Madonna's song 'Vogue', the audience was loud with hoots and whistles of approval.

_**It makes no difference if you're black or white  
If you're a boy or a girl  
If the music's pumping it will give you new life  
You're a superstar, yes, that's what you are, you know it**_

Of course, I _**knew**_ this was a drag show and that all of the performers were men, but it still took me a moment to figure out that all of the men onstage were dressed as different versions of the singer, Madonna. There was a 'Desperately Seeking Susan' Madonna with curly two-toned hair and a funky leather jacket. There was a long-haired brunette Madonna wearing a long, black, flowing outfit. I snickered at the short-haired blonde Madonna wearing the v-coned bra and corset. And I gasped at the 'Marilyn Monroe' Madonna when I recognized that she was Val _**and**_ that Val was absolutely the most gorgeous man-in-drag I'd ever seen.

Everyone applauded loudly as Marilyn/Madonna accepted a microphone into her hand and introduced the show. After explaining that this was a tribute to the fantastic body of work which Madonna had been producing since the mid-eighties, Val encouraged everyone to sit back and have fun. He also reminded the audience that for the rest of the evening, with only two exceptions, the club would be playing only Madonna's songs. And then the show began.

The first dance number confused me for a moment, and I could see that I wasn't the only one who recognized that the song we were hearing wasn't one of Madonna's tunes. The dancers were dressed as both men and women from the disco era and they performed dances from that time, such as the Hustle and the Bump. It was set to the ABBA song, 'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)' and I supposed it was appropriate since it now was half-past midnight and many of the club's patrons - both male and female - indeed were looking for men.

_**Gimme! Gimme! Gimme a man after midnight!  
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?  
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme a man after midnight!  
Take me through the darkness to the break of the day.**_

Then the song segued into Madonna's 'Hung Up' and I felt the shift in the energy level in the room. I found it difficult to believe that the dancer in the pink wrap-around workout leotard and blonde 'Farrah Fawcett' wig was really a guy, but Cat assured me that he was. Song after song, dance number after dance number, I was amazed at the talent these men displayed. Val's drag show truly deserved all the praise it had received.

One of the most strikingly beautiful dance numbers was set to the song, 'Frozen' and it was a ballet. I'd never seen anything like it. The black-haired, black-clad 'Madonna' came onto the bare stage and danced with such fluid motions I asked Cat if she was sure that was a man. She shocked me when she told me the dancer also was Val.

_**Mmmmmm, if I could melt your heart  
Mmmmmm, we'd never be apart  
Mmmmmm, give yourself to me  
Mmmmmm, you hold the key**_

"He's a classically-trained dancer, you know," Cat whispered. "We both are. In fact, he originally choreographed this piece for me when we were doing a different show - a co-ed show. But I've specifically stayed out of Val's drag shows so that he can honestly claim them as all-male reviews. Even though our club isn't a gay club, patrons really seem to enjoy the drag shows better than anything else we've done in the past. When Val began to put together _**this**_ show, I knew that he and Chano had to dance this ballet number together, instead of me and Val."

"Who's Chano?" I asked as a second black-haired, black-clad Madonna - an almost mirror image of the first one - pirouetted onto the stage.

"_**That's**_ Chano," Cat nodded toward the second dancer. "Luciano Fiorelli. He and Val met when they danced together in a show on Broadway. They broke up after Val came back to Miami to help care for our grandmother, but Chano couldn't bear to lose Val. He finally moved down from New York and when Abuela Blanca saw how happy Val became with Chano by his side, she ... she gave them her blessings before she passed away. They've been inseparable ever since."

We quietly watched the rest of the hauntingly beautiful performance and applauded vigorously when it was over. Again, if I hadn't known that both of the dancers were men, I would have sworn they were women. A different voice announced a fifteen-minute intermission and Madonna's song 'Lucky Star' began to play over the club's sound system. Cat invited me and Ranger up to her private apartment above the club, where we could use her bathroom and be guaranteed a hasty return to our seats. Papí and one of his friends who had joined us right before the intermission decided to guard our table.

_**You must be my lucky star  
'Cause you make the darkness seem so far  
And when I'm lost you'll be my guide  
I just turn around and you're by my side**_

"So, Val and Chano - are they a committed couple?" I asked Cat as Ranger and I followed her up the narrow staircase. Ranger, ever the opportunist, kept peeking up the backside of my dress since he was behind me. I almost kicked him - almost.

"Absolutely!" Cat replied without turning around. "Their relationship has lasted longer than either of _**my**_ two marriages. Being a dance instructor hasn't been very good for my love-life. My exes just couldn't get over the fact that my career actually required me to dance in the arms of lots of different men."

I finally swatted Ranger's hand away from the edge of my panties and hoped my voice sounded normal when I asked, "And the rest of your extended family doesn't mind about Val and Chano?"

Cat shrugged, "Oh, there are some who don't like the situation, but most of their misplaced anguish is over the fact that Val possesses Papí's name. Our Tío Riva, Val's father, really wanted there to be a Ricardo Valentino Súarez the Sixth, but that's highly unlikely to happen, since neither Val nor Chano have any desire to adopt. They don't even have a house pet. And Tío Riva's other children are all girls." Then Cat unlocked her door and ushered us into her place.

"Now I'm confused," I said as I followed her into the cool foyer. "Val's sister, Sara, told me that women in Hispanic cultures usually keep their maiden names, so why couldn't one of your uncle's daughters name one of their sons after him?"

"Any of their children would still take on their father's surnames first, so it wouldn't matter. I suppose that one of our other male Súarez cousins could take on the responsibility of passing on Papí's name, but so far, no one has wanted to do so." She waved at me to follow her to the bathroom and I thanked her for her hospitality as she let me go first.

Whereas Ranger was very tidy and organized - Ella or no Ella - Cat was extremely messy. Even though the apartment looked fairly clean, stuff was strewn about everywhere, especially discarded clothes and containers of various cosmetics. When Ranger came out of the bathroom, Cat made some lame excuse about it being the maid's day off. I could see a muscle tighten in Ranger's jaw as he struggled not to say anything that might offend or hurt his cousin's feelings.

After we returned to our booth in the club, Cat ordered another round of drinks and we waited for the second half of the show to begin. Now Madonna's song 'Holiday' was playing over the sound system. Ranger wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I relaxed against his side. The pretty ring on my finger reminded me that we truly belonged to each other now.

_**Forget about the bad times, oh yeah  
One day to come together  
To release the pressure  
We need a holiday**_

I scowled at a table of several scantily-clad women who had been trying to catch Ranger's attention until they gave up and turned their backs to us. I was certain that Ranger had been scowling at a few other men all evening, too. We were pressed together so closely that when his cell phone vibrated, it tickled my side. I knew something was wrong as Ranger glanced at the new message and then swore softly.

"What's up?" I whispered.

Ranger shook his head and then he whispered in my ear, "Tommy Galarza hasn't returned to his father's booth yet. Gonzo's men think he might be in the ladies restroom, but they can't see into there because it's still so crowded."

"Please tell me that RangeMan doesn't have cameras in the restrooms," I whispered in response.

"Babe."

Ranger almost looked like he wanted to roll his eyes at my remark, but he was scanning the room to see if Tommy was anywhere in sight. I saw him make eye contact with one of the bouncers who only shrugged his shoulders. He nodded toward a booth where two men and at least five beautiful women were sitting. I guessed that the men were Tommy's father and brother.

"Val was able to make a tentative identification for us from watching the security tapes of the Galarza party's arrival at the door tonight," Ranger said, validating my thoughts. "He told Gonzo that Tommy definitely is masquerading as a woman tonight. But the intermission is almost over and no one has spotted our skip since everyone started milling around."

"The ladies' room can get pretty crowded, you know," I said. "There's always a long, long line if you have to use the bathroom in places like this."

"Hey!" Cat protested, "We're very accommodating here at _¡Caliente!_ We have six stalls in the ladies' room - that's _**two**_ more than at most of the other clubs around here. And our men's room has three stalls and three urinals." Clearly, Cat was defensive about the club's facilities.

I shrugged and said, "Then our skip should've used his natural-born rights and gone into the men's room, instead. I've always envied you men - it's not fair!" I narrowed my eyes at Ranger and he shook his head disgustedly.

"Obviously, our skip _**had **_to go into the ladies' room," Ranger said, "Or else he'd risk blowing his cover. He came into the club as a leggy blonde, wearing a short black dress and shoes with four-inch stiletto heels. He's blended in real well with this crowd. No way would he mess that up now. We need someone to check that bathroom ASAP."

Ranger made eye contact with Cat and she slid closer to Papí in an obvious display of unwillingness to go along with her cousin's plan. Sighing again, Ranger stared down at the surface of the table while he regrouped his thoughts. When he raised his head, he turned to look into my eyes and I immediately knew what was coming.

"Babe, I know we're supposed to be off-line, but--"

"I'll do it." I agreed, even though I didn't know exactly what 'it' was.

"What?" Both Cat and Papí exclaimed.

"Carlos!" Cat protested, "How can you even suggest putting your girlfriend - your _**fiancée**_ - in such danger like this?"

At the same time, Papí spoke in Spanish, **"Are you crazy, boy? Helping you find your daughter is one thing, but I refuse to let you endanger this lovely young woman in such a callous manner!"**

"Calm down, both of you," Ranger whispered harshly. "Stephanie is a bounty hunter, too. And she's run several successful distractions for RangeMan. In fact, we just caught a very bad guy the day before we came down here. Trust me, Steph's good at her job and, unlike you two, she can actually carry a gun."

This earned me a new look of curiosity from Papí and Cat and I felt my face and ears get warm. It was easy to see that they both now thought of me as a gun-toting, door-smashing bounty hunter like their badass grandson and cousin. Nevertheless, Ranger knew very well that I did not have any weapons with me - unless, of course, you counted my 'lethal' knee.

I replied directly to Ranger, "Yes, well, I hardly ever use a _**gun**_ on such missions, so if a distraction is what you need, I think I can handle it. What do you want me to do?"

"We'll quickly go around back so that one of Gonzo's guys can give me a wire to put on you. We'll give you a set of cuffs and then you'll go into the ladies' room. When you've located Tommy, see if you can cuff him to yourself and bring him out quietly. The men will take things from there." Ranger unfolded himself from the booth and stretched.

"Sounds simple enough," I said and I stood up next to Ranger. "Don't worry. We'll be right back," I said to Cat and Papí. Now the song '4 Minutes' was playing and I was starting to feel more like dancing then skip-chasing. Nevertheless, RangeMan needed my particular talents and, off-line or not, I was glad to be useful.

_**If you want it  
You already got it  
If you thought it  
It better be what you want  
If you feel it  
It must real just  
Say the word and I will give you what you want**_

As always, Ranger enjoyed placing the wire just right within my super-sexy Miracle Bra. So what if his fingers strayed a little? And once I had the set of handcuffs tucked into my tiny purse, I felt ready to tackle the world - or at least Tommy Galarza. If the loser tried to run, I knew I could beat him, too, especially since he supposedly was wearing stiletto heels and my dancing shoes were far more sensible.

The lights flickered, indicating that the second half of the show would begin very soon, so I hurried back to the restrooms and ducked into the ladies' room. After a quick scan of the few women who were still waiting for a stall to open up, I spotted Tommy in front of the sinks, reapplying his lipstick. Once again, I thought about how unfair it was that some men could look so good when they were dressed up as women.

The truth was that Tommy Galarza was runway-model gorgeous. He was tan and shapely and I became instantly and irrationally jealous of his appearance. It was difficult to see that his long blonde wig wasn't his real hair and that his cleavage wasn't real, either. I suddenly had a vision of Sugar, one of Sally Sweet's old flames, who was so jealous of me that he had tried to kill me. Scrunching up my face, I pretended to brush off something offensive from the front of my dress.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!" I muttered as I approached the sinks. "Stupid fruity drinks! I knew I should've ordered white wine."

I made initial eye contact with my target and we both nodded toward one another. After pretending to use a damp paper towel on my non-existent spot, I stared for a longer moment until he noticed me. Tommy was blotting his lips with a tissue and I smiled at his reflection in the mirror.

"That's a real nice shade of lipstick on you," I said. "May I ask, is that 'Tropical Sunset' by L'Oreal, or is it something else?"

Tommy reached back into his purse, pulled out the tube of lipstick and held it up to the light to read the information. When he spoke, his voice was soft and low, but not exactly masculine. "It _**is**_ L'Oreal, but it's not the shade you--"

He stopped speaking because I had clicked the handcuff onto his wrist and now he was connected to me. The other ladies still waiting to use the facilities didn't seem fazed by the sudden appearance of a pair of handcuffs. I guess this sort of thing happened a lot in South Beach. Who knew?

"What the--?" Tommy asked, and he looked around, confused.

"Just act calm and follow me out of here, sweetie," I whispered. "I know someone who wants to meet you - right now. It'll be fun."

"I ... I'm afraid you've got the wrong woman," Tommy hissed as I led him to the door, "I'm not into anything _**this **_kinky. And you ... you're not really my type."

"That's too bad," I said as we exited the ladies' room. "Perhaps these gentlemen will be more to your liking."

"Tommy Galarza," one of the Merry Men said, "You are in violation of your bond. Please come with--"

Tommy yanked on the cuffs and tried to run away, but I used his momentum against him and swung him around, throwing him off-balance. Instinctively, I brought my knee up and landed a direct hit to his cleverly disguised crotch. If he'd really been a woman, he probably would have laughed and then dragged me along on the floor behind him. As it was, my lethal knee had exposed his true nature and he only dragged me down to the floor, where he lay in a crumpled heap.

"You've been a bad, bad boy, Tommy," I panted. "And now these nice men are going to help you get re-bonded. I'm sure that's what your father will want as soon as he's informed of your legal disposition."

"Mm-mmph..." was all Tommy could utter in response.

Ranger stepped over us to unlock my side of the handcuffs and then he attached Tommy's wrists together behind his back. Then two of the Miami Merry Men lifted Tommy up under his armpits and escorted him down the hall, through the dance studio and out the back door of the club. Ranger and I followed them and we saw that Gonzo was waiting for us, standing proudly in front of two standard RangeMan black SUVs.

"What shade of lipstick are _**you **_wearing tonight, Miss Plum?" Gonzo asked me. His eyes were twinkling with mischievous glee.

Ranger glared at his flirty cousin, but I merely said, "I'll never tell."

He laughed and said, "Well played! I can see why my cousin is so taken with you, Stephanie. We are, of course, indebted to you for your help tonight."

"No problemo," I said and then inwardly winced at my lame-sounding Spanish.

"Why don't you try to convince Carlos to stay in Miami?" Gonzo asked. "With you on our team here, our capture rate is sure to be near perfect."

I was distracted from answering Gonzo while Ranger removed the wire from my bra. Then I watched the Merry Men stuff Tommy Galarza into the first SUV and drive away. It was almost disappointing the way that Tommy hadn't put up much of a good fight. I had been expecting at least a punch in the eye or the gut. Although I was glad to be able to help out during my off-line time, now all I wanted to do was get back inside and catch the rest of Val's show.

"I'll call you later," Ranger told Gonzo in a tight voice. "Do _**not**_ bother us unless it's a true emergency, understand?"

"Got it," Gonzo said, and then, as if he had read my mind, he added, "Now, you go back in and enjoy Val's show. I know you're gonna love it. See you later!"

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Ranger's POV**

Once again, I was proud of my Babe. She had done exactly what I'd asked her to do and now, in less than a week, she had _**two**_ high-dollar captures on her account. And the funny thing was that her involvement in both cases was mostly accidental. Stephanie Plum certainly had a knack for being in the right place at the right time.

Nevertheless, I also was very angry with myself. I truly had wanted us to have a fun and relaxing time away from all the scary and dangerous elements of our BEA lifestyle. It had almost killed me to ask Steph to go into that restroom and root out Tommy Galarza. Now that my Miami crew had seen her in action, her 'lethal' knee was sure to become a legend. I could only imagine what our life would be like after she had learned some true martial arts techniques.

Although I'd really been looking forward to dancing into the wee hours with my Babe, I decided that it would be best if we returned to the _Batcave_ immediately after Val's show. First, we'd tell him about our engagement, and then we'd leave. And tomorrow, we'd spend all day on the beach, just as Stephanie had requested. In my current mood, I didn't even care about fishing; I'd be willing to allow my Babe to treat me to McDonald's food - also as she had requested earlier today.

Once we had settled back into our seats with Papí and Cat, I began to relax a bit more. Cat informed us that we had only missed two dance numbers while we were taking care of RangeMan business and Val wasn't in either of them. Glancing at the stage, I noticed that stagehands were moving a staircase into position for the next number and I wondered what was coming.

The full evening of Madonna's songs was starting to get on my nerves; I wasn't a true fan of the singer. I tried not to grit my teeth as her song 'Into the Groove' ended and 'Material Girl' began. My cousin was dressed up to look like Marilyn Monroe again and several of his dancers were dressed as men in tuxedos this time. In the middle of the song, the music faded and Val did his 'meet-and-greet' routine, extending the club's congratulations to several couples and other people who were celebrating special occasions.

I noticed that Val didn't acknowledge the presence of several celebrities who were present tonight. Beyoncé and Jay-Z and some of their friends were sitting in the booth nearest to us. Enrique Iglesias and Anna Kournikova were sitting at the booth closest to the Galarzas and their entourage and Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson was sitting with another group of friends on the other side of them. I knew that Val and Cat always promised discretion to their guests and many of them returned to _¡Caliente! _with their friends in tow because they knew they wouldn't be pestered by rabid fans within the club.

Thankfully, Val didn't mention me and Stephanie, either. I glanced at Cat and she stuck her tongue out at me, so I figured that she hadn't had a chance to tell Val about me and Stephanie yet. Val finished his dance number and a different set of dancers dressed in cowboy-styled costumed performed to 'Don't Tell Me'. After that song was over, the sounds of factory machinery coming out of the speakers and I heard Val's voice introducing the next song.

"This next number is especially for a lovely lady who shall go unnamed tonight," Val said. "My wayward cousin has _**finally**_ captured her heart, but I want to offer to her Madonna's fabulous words of advice to help him do the right thing. Listen up, cousin -- this one's for you, too!" Then he appeared onstage at the top of the staircase, dressed like 'Corporate Man Madonna' as the words blasted out of the sound system and the audience hooted and hollered their approval.

_**Come on girls!  
Do you believe in love?  
'Cause I got something to say about it  
And it goes something like this:  
Don't go for second best, baby  
Put your love to the test  
You know, you know, you've got to  
Make him express how he feels  
And maybe then you'll know your love is real**_

I felt Stephanie tense up beside me as Val strutted down the staircase and lip-synched to 'Express Yourself'. He pointed his finger in the general direction of our booth as he danced. Even though no one in the club knew that my Babe was the person to whom Val was referring, she slid down in her seat just a little. Papí laughed and clapped his hands along with the audience. Cat was trying - and failing - to hold in her laughter. I glared at both of them.

_**You don't need diamond rings  
Or eighteen karat gold  
Fancy cars that go very fast  
You know they never last, no, no  
What you need is a big strong hand  
To lift you to your higher ground  
Make you feel like a queen on a throne  
Make him love you till you can't come down**_

Stephanie had started to laugh, too, and then I noticed two of the bouncers were doubled over, laughing their asses off. They were part of RangeMan's regular security detail for the club and hadn't been on the team going after Tommy Galarza. Of course, they knew all about my Bombshell BEA, especially her exploding vehicles. Damn! I was going to strangle Val when I got my hands around his scrawny neck.

_**Express yourself  
[You've got to make him]  
Express himself  
Hey, hey, hey, hey  
So if you want it right now, make him show you how  
Express what he's got, oh baby ready or not**_

By the time the song was over, I was smiling, too. I guess my family and friends knew me well enough to understand that the words to that particular song happened to be good advice for Stephanie - and for me. My Babe needed for me to be more open with her and share the things which were deep inside of me, even if they were dark. Still, I was resolved that we would make our exit as quickly as possible. My patience was nearly at its end and I didn't feel like forcing Steph to dance with me anymore.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Stephanie's POV**

I was having so much fun on our date that I almost felt sad when the show finally ended. It was amazing to watch Val's entire cast - all dressed as different versions of Madonna - danced off the stage to her song 'Music' and onto to dance floor where they invited the audience to get up out of their seats and join them. Suddenly, I truly felt like dancing with Ranger and nudged him to take me out into the throng.

_**Music makes the people come together  
[Never gonna stop]  
Music makes the bourgeoisie and the rebel  
[Never gonna stop]**_

"_**Now**_ you want to dance?" Ranger sounded a little annoyed.

I frowned at him and said, "Well ... not if you're going to be ... snippety about it."

He put his arm around me again and hugged me to his chest. "I'm sorry, Steph. After everything that's happened tonight, I just thought that ... that you'd want to leave as soon as possible."

"Really?"

"Really," he nodded.

"But ... what if I've changed my mind about dancing?" I asked.

Ranger gazed into my eyes and said, "It's up to you, Babe. If you want to leave, we'll leave. If you want to stay, we'll dance as much - or as little - as you want."

I thought about it for a moment and then I glanced out at all of the happy people who were dancing and having a good time. I even noticed some celebrities in the writhing crowd. Lula, Connie and Mary Lou would kill me if they found out I passed on the opportunity to 'bump booties' with the rich and famous while I was down here.

Smiling, I looked into Ranger's eyes and said, "Someone once said - this morning, I believe - that life's too short. Come on, Carlos, let's dance while we can!"

_**Hey Mister D.J.  
Put a record on  
I wanna dance with my baby**_

And so we danced - all night long.

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**A/N: I hope the club scenes were as much fun to read as they were to write. Again, the movie 'The Birdcage' acted as my overall 'muse' for a lot of the activity within this chapter. And while this wasn't a 'song-fic' chapter, I obviously used a lot of lyrics for emphasis, including Miami Sound Machine's song 'Bad Boy' as part of the inspiration for the chapter title. As always, I love the encouragement and input from your reviews, so please continue to let me know what you think of my work. Thanks! :D**


	20. Chapter 20

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize here is someone from my own imagination. Sadly, I'm still not making any money for doing this. **

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this story! I've been writing short fic-lets for a competition on a different website in a different fandom and my head has been filled with medieval situations and storylines for more than a week. I must confess that your wonderful comments and reviews are inspiring me to think of lots of other stories and song-fics, but I'm focusing on writing one story at a time until completion. Meanwhile, I'll just keep my notes and outlines for future work. In this chapter, I'm alternating POVs again. Enjoy! :D**

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The Lexus stalled in the hedge, and Dom wrenched the door open and took off for the faux chateau. I ran flat-out after him and tackled him halfway to the house. He was heavier and stronger than I was, but I was willing to fight dirty. I brought my knee up and rearranged his private parts so that they were halfway into his intestines.

_Dom grabbed himself and went into a fetal position. He was sweating and gasping for air, and for a moment I was afraid he might throw up...._

_He'd stopped holding himself, but he was still standing bent and bowlegged. "I'm gonna have cramps for days," he said. "You should register that knee as a lethal weapon."_

_Fearless Fourteen_

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Chapter 20: Lethal Weapon

**Ranger's POV**

My Babe never disappoints. Just when I think I've figured her out, she surprises me again. After the Galarza capture, I was ready to leave the club as soon as Val's show ended, but Stephanie actually wanted to stay and dance for a while. It felt great to be out on the dance floor with her, even if the music wasn't really what I enjoyed. I decided that it might be fun to play some of _**my**_ favorite tunes at home and practice more intricate dance moves with Steph in the future.

Val finally finished schmoozing with his celebrity guests and other fans of his show and then he came over to our booth while we were catching our breath. Stephanie and I told him about our engagement and he became misty-eyed when he saw our grandmother's ring on Steph's finger. Then he introduced Stephanie to his partner, Chano, who quickly excused himself to change out of his flowing, 'Madonna-in-black' outfit from the 'Frozen' dance number.

"It's truly a pleasure to meet the woman whom Val says Carlos cannot resist," Chano said before he turned and disappeared down a side hallway. "I'll be right back after I get rid of this Goth make-up and the rest of these clothes. Save me a dance, alright?"

The look on my Babe's face was priceless as she realized that Chano had addressed his comment to her. I also thought she looked a little green at the thought of dancing with another man, so I patted her hand and reminded her that she didn't have to dance with anybody except me. Then we all had a few rounds of champagne to celebrate and danced some more.

After a while, Papí stated that he had a headache, so he wished us 'young people' well and retired to Cat's apartment. I only hoped he'd be able to find a clear space to sleep in that pigsty my cousin tried to pass off as living quarters. If Abuela Blanca was alive, she'd keel over at the sight of such a messy place. Maid's day off - my ass!

I noticed that Tommy Galarza's father and his entourage had departed from the club shortly after the end of the show. When Gonzo and my Miami crew left the parking lot, they were headed for the federal processing center to turn in our skip. I figured that Tommy probably had contacted his old man as soon as the feds allowed him to do so and he would be re-bonded fairly quickly.

My cell phone buzzed at about 0330 hours (_3:00 a.m._), while I was showing Stephanie how to dance the bachata - a very sensual dance which she declared would be our undoing. I hesitated to look down at my phone's text display. I suddenly had very bad feeling about this call and, of course, I was right.

"What's wrong?" Steph asked when she noticed the expression on my face.

"There's a problem with our skip." I said. "I need to call Gonzo ASAP." And I led her off the dance floor toward our booth.

We both turned when we heard a voice ask, "May I have this dance, Miss Plum?"

It was Chano. He had changed out of his costume and was now wearing a dark blue satin shirt and black pants. He was the same height as both Val and me and I was surprised to see that his long, black hair was all his own. He had pulled it back into a loose braid which hung down the middle of his back, almost to his waistline. Even though he also had toned down his make-up and removed his blue contact lenses, Chano still bore an uncanny resemblance to Val.

"Oh, I ... I really _**can't**_ dance," Stephanie began to explain. "It's all Carlos. I'm just following along."

"I promise not to bite," Chano said, his smile almost shy. "And, anyway, I won't dance with you the way your lover does. I save those kinds of moves for Val." He winked at me and I laughed. I had met Chano when he and Val lived in New York, so I was used to his humor.

I shrugged at my Babe. Chano was no threat to me, so I encouraged Stephanie to try dancing with him. "You might even learn something new that _**you**_ could teach to _**me**_." I said and kissed her on the top of her forehead.

Steph snorted and replied, "I seriously doubt that. But if you think it's okay, then I'll give it a try." Then she turned to Chano and said, "I'm warning you now, it's your own fault if you wake up with sore toes!"

He merely smiled again and held out his hand to lead Stephanie back onto the dance floor. She gave me a look that said "I'd better not fall on my ass - or else" and followed Chano into the crowd. I loved watching her red-clad body as she walked away from me; her dress was very hot and sexy and I could hardly wait to peel it off of her when we got back to the _Batcave_.

I turned around and discovered that I wasn't the only man enjoying the fantastic view of my Babe's backside. The wrestler-turned-actor who went by the stage name 'The Rock' was also appreciating Stephanie's assets as she danced with Chano. When he finally made eye contact with me, I made sure he got the full blast of 'stay-away-from-woman' vibes from me. The Rock raised an eyebrow at me and smiled before he shrugged and returned his attention to his own guests.

I blew out a tired sigh and returned Gonzo's urgent page.

"Carlos! Thank God you called!" Gonzo said. "We have a bad situation here."

"I saw your message. What happened? Why are you at the hospital?"

"Well ... it seems that your Bombshell BEA did more damage than we'd originally thought."

"What do you mean? Give me the specifics."

"Apparently, by the time we'd gotten to him tonight, Tommy Galarza had consumed a fair amount of cocaine. And when Stephanie kneed him in the groin, the pain sent his body into shock - more shock than his heart could handle."

"Aw, hell."

"You got that right. Tommy had whined about not feeling good while he was in our SUV, but nobody feels great after they've been kicked in the nuts, so we ignored his complaints. Then he collapsed while the federal agents were in-processing him. Apparently, he had a massive heart attack. The feds called 9-1-1 and the paramedics were able to revive him on the way to the hospital, but ... it doesn't look good right now."

"Where's the father?"

"Here, at Tommy's bedside in the ICU ward," Gonzo sounded worried. "A priest just came in and gave our skip his last rites. Carlos, even if this guy pulls through, he's never gonna be the same as he was before. The doctors say that his brain was without oxygen for too long."

"Damn!"

"Stephanie's paperwork is straight, right?" Gonzo sounded very worried. "I mean, she's an _**actual**_ employee of RangeMan and she's covered by our insurance and everything?"

"Yeah, she's good," I said, not liking the direction this was headed. "Call Tank and get him to email and fax you the documents ASAP. Please tell me that the feds had finished in-processing Tommy."

"No, I told you - he collapsed in the middle of it."

I swore again. This was bad - very bad. The _**last **_thing we needed was for RangeMan or Stephanie to become entangled in an official investigation into a potentially high-profile death. I cursed Tommy Galarza for being the stupid, drug-running coke-head that he was.

"I'm sorry, Carlos," Gonzo said. "You know the feds will probably toss this mess back onto RangeMan's plate. And I wouldn't be surprised if Roberto Galarza, the dude's dad, decides to sue our asses off for using excessive force."

I thought about this new FUBAR situation for a moment and shook my head in disbelief. We had always joked around about Stephanie's knee being a 'lethal weapon' and now it seemed that it might become a reality. Regardless of the fact that Tommy Galarza had been high on cocaine at the time of her knee displacing his gonads, a good lawyer could argue that Steph's actions had caused Tommy's heart attack. And I knew that the Galarzas would have access to the best attorneys money could buy.

"Call our lawyers ASAP," I said. "Wake somebody up. I'll get in touch with a doctor I know and get some good advice on the medical aspect of the situation. Make sure you obtain a copy of the toxicology report; I want to know _**exactly**_ how much cocaine was in Tommy's system tonight."

"What are you going to tell Stephanie?"

"Nothing right now." I could see that my Babe was enjoying herself with both Chano and Cat, who were showing her how to do some more dance moves.

Gonzo protested. "Carlos, Stephanie needs to know what she's up against! At the very _**least**_, she might be facing an assault charge!"

"Let's wait until daybreak and see what happens," I said, smiling back at my Babe after she gave me a little finger wave. "Look, I just asked Stephanie to marry me tonight. I am _**not**_ going to mess up her good time - not yet, anyway."

Gonzo was silent for a moment before he said, "I assume the poor girl said 'yes' out of pity for you."

"Pedro, don't be such an ass!" I said as I struggled to maintain the last shred of my patience. "This is serious business and it's not fair to drop this mess on Stephanie's head tonight - or rather, this morning. You don't know everything she's already been through this week."

"Don't you think you should prepare her for the worst?"

I blew out another sigh and said, "Give me a break here! Stephanie and I came down here to Miami to escape from all the messed up crap that pollutes our lives on a regular basis. We were _**off-line **_when we - I mean RangeMan - asked her to provide a little assistance with Tommy Galarza's apprehension. She did her job with guts and efficiency and now you're telling me that we've involved her in a mess that we probably can't get her or ourselves out of very easily."

"Sorry, cousin. I just--"

"I know. I know. Listen, I'll tell Stephanie everything _**after**_ we've had several hours of sleep. Maybe I'll break the bad news to her when we're sunning ourselves on the beach. Just let me give her a few more hours of fun, okay?"

"You're the boss," Gonzo said with a resigned tone. "Let's hope for a miracle. Maybe Tommy Galarza will pull through somehow."

"Yeah, maybe. Keep me posted," I said and closed my phone. Then I successfully resisted the urge to throw the blasted thing across the club. I'm not a particularly religious man, but for my Babe's sake I sent up a prayer to God, begging for him to keep Tommy Galarza alive.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

All my life I've thought I was about as graceful as a cow. My older sister, Valerie, always knew the latest dance crazes, but I seemed to have two left feet. No matter how many times she tried to show me how to 'Bump' or 'Hustle', I just couldn't get things right. I liked to dance around in the privacy of my own apartment - where no one could see me - but dancing out in public was fraught with danger. I knew that my 'freestyle' moves were pathetic and I could be downright dangerous when I stumbled through group dances like the 'Electric Slide'.

It turns out that I've just been trying to dance to the wrong music with the wrong people all these years. Of course, some of my favorite bands - like Metallica and Godsmack - don't exactly put out the kind of music DJs play at most dance clubs. I've never really listened to much Latin music, but I actually like the way it sounds. And now that I've been hanging out with Ranger and his extremely talented cousins, it seems that I _**can**_ dance! Go figure.

Spending time with Chano and Cat and Val was a lot of fun, but I was glad when Ranger returned to the dance floor after he made his phone call. Dancing in my _**fiancé's**_ arms made me feel downright giddy. I was almost sad when Val finally announced the last dance before closing time - which, of course, was to the song 'Hot! Hot! Hot!' again. This time Ranger held me close to him as we danced the merengue and I got dizzy from some of the twists and twirls we did while he kept me pressed against his solid body.

After we said our goodbyes to everyone at the club, we exited through the back door and Ranger walked me to the Mercedes. He opened the door for me and I slid onto the very comfy passenger seat. The sky was still dark and the clock on the car's console showed a time I knew was Ranger's normal wake-up time. It was impossible for me to stay awake as we drove back to the marina.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

I had to carry Stephanie onto the _Batcave_. She was so exhausted that she didn't wake up when I took off her clothes and dressed her in the pink pajamas Ella packed for her. I was amazed that Steph's luscious body remained completely relaxed, even when I placed her between the sheets of our bed. After I took a quick shower, I slid between the sheets and pressed my body next to hers. She didn't move a muscle at the sound of me whispering into her ear how much I love her and I soon fell asleep, too.

Gonzo's phone call woke me at 0800 hours and the news was bad. I hadn't been on good terms with God since I was a boy, so it came as no surprise to hear that he had not answered my prayer. Tommy Galarza had just suffered another heart attack and died. My cousin gave me all the specifics and he told me that, thankfully, the family had requested a complete autopsy. I only hoped the medical officials would determine that the cocaine - and _**not**_ Stephanie's knee to Tommy's nuts - was the cause of the man's death.

"You have the recording of Stephanie's short chat with Tommy while she was wearing the wire, right?" I asked Gonzo. "I'm sure the police are going to want a copy."

"Yeah, it's all good," he replied. "We already gave the feds a copy of the tape during Galarza's FUBAR in-processing. Tank sent me copies Stephanie's employment contract and BEA papers earlier this morning."

"Hooah," I said, feeling somewhat relieved. "What's the fed's disposition on the whole situation?"

Gonzo paused before he said, "Listen, Carlos, I think you should take a few photos of Stephanie's wrist, you know, as supporting evidence. I'll bet she still has some scrapes and bruising from when Tommy Galarza tried to run. You can even hear the sound of their brief scuffle when the dude fell off his high heels and dragged your Bombshell down to the floor with him. That had to have caused some damage to the skin under Stephanie's side of the cuffs and if we show such photos to the police, they're less likely to press charges against her for doing her job. "

"Good thinking," I agreed. "We need to let the lawyers do their thing first, but we'd better be ready when the officials get around to questioning all of us. If anyone asks, I plan on bringing Stephanie to the RangeMan building for a few hours Monday afternoon. Until then, we're _**seriously**_ off-line. You know where we'll be staying, right?"

"Yeah," he said and I could hear his smile in his tone of voice. "Say hello to Frida for me. The last time my wife and I stayed at Tío Juan Pedro's house, their housekeeper made a tres leches cake that was so good even _**you **_wouldn't have been able to resist it. And Carlos ... congratulations on your engagement to Stephanie. Don't worry about this mess - we've got you covered. Just relax and enjoy your down-time. I know you need it."

"Thanks," I said and we both disconnected.

Part of me felt slightly sleazy when I used my cell phone's camera to take a few photos of the abrasions around Stephanie's wrist, but I knew it was necessary. I sent the images to Gonzo's phone so that he could process them and add them to the case file he had started to put together for Steph's defense - just in case we needed it. Through it all, my Babe slept soundly and as soon as I had completed the tasks which required my immediate attention, I returned to the bed, pulled her close to me and went back to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

One of the last things I remembered thinking after Ranger and I left the club was that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a car like his Mercedes in Trenton. I knew I would look good driving in it, too; it was luxurious and its ride was very smooth. In fact, the ride was so smooth, I had fallen asleep within five minutes and I didn't even feel a thing when Ranger transferred me from the car to the boat.

The bright sunlight streaming in through our cabin's porthole windows finally woke me up. Of course, I'd never slept on a boat that was out to sea, so when I felt the gentle rocking sensations, I experienced a slightly disorienting feeling, too, and I hoped I wouldn't get seasick. A sense of peace washed over me, though, when I realized that I was wrapped securely in Ranger's arms. He was right; it felt like 'home' wherever and whenever we were together.

My yawning and stretching alerted Ranger to the fact that I was awake and his arms tightened around me. A quick peek under the covers revealed that I now was wearing the pink pajamas Ella had packed for me. I wondered how much fun Ranger had had when he took off the outfit I'd worn to the club and dressed me in the silky top and bottom. Then, as I felt his body awaken behind me, I wondered how much fun it was going to be for him to remove these jammies. Turns out, it was _**lots**_ of fun.

Ranger nearly drove me crazy with desire while he played with the satiny fabric of my pajamas. "This is so pretty," he murmured into the skin above my belly button as he scrunched the edges of my pajama top up the length of my torso and slipped it off over my head. Kissing his way back down to the drawstring waistband of the pajama bottoms, he glanced up into my eyes and said, "These are pretty, too, but we both know they're just in the way." Then he slid them off of my legs in one smooth movement.

"Maybe - _**just maybe**_ - I could adjust to this life without dessert," was the last coherent statement that came out of my mouth for quite a while. Afterwards, when we were cuddled up together in the twisted sheets, I turned to Ranger and said, "I _**definitely**_ could get used to this."

"Good," he replied. Then he pulled me on top of him so that we were chest-to-chest and he began to stroke my bare backside with his warm hands. "Because this is forever, Babe - whether or not you decide to start eating dessert again."

I laughed at his remark and then kissed his almost-smiling lips. As I gazed into Ranger's dark eyes, though, I got the feeling that something was 'off'. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to have anything to do with the way he and I related to each other; nonetheless, it felt like there was a shadow or a heavy rain-cloud hanging over us for some unknown reason. I frowned and he raised an eyebrow at me.

"What's the matter, Steph?" Ranger asked. "Why are you frowning?"

I suddenly remembered how much trouble we were going to be in when we returned to Trenton and I did a mental head-slap. There was a very good reason things felt 'off' and I knew it had everything to do with what was probably going on back in Trenton. No wonder I felt as though doom and gloom awaited me - they actually were! When I tried to roll away from Ranger, though, he held me tightly in place on his chest.

"I smell smoke, Babe," he said. "What are you thinking about now?"

I sighed and said, "I should make some phone calls today and try to do some damage control with the folks back home. By now everyone should've calmed down a bit."

"You really believe that?"

"No. But I'm worried that certain people might try to do something crazy if I don't call them and let them know that everything is okay."

"Such as?"

"Well, there's Grandma Mazur," I said as I chewed on my lower lip. "For all we know, she could be on a plane to Miami right now. Same thing goes for Lula - or even my mother."

Ranger shook his head. "They'll never find us, Babe. We're on a yacht and we're moving around in the Atlantic Ocean."

"So ... we're really out to sea now?"

"Mmm hmm," he nodded. "And we'll _**stay**_ out here until I catch us something to eat for dinner." The skeptical look on my face caused him to continue, "I guarantee you'll like the way truly fresh fish tastes, Babe. And if you don't, I'm sure Túlio can whip up something more to your liking."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not worried about eating the fish, Carlos. What if someone actually does fly down here to Miami? RangeMan of Miami is listed in the phone directory, isn't it? If either my mother or grandmother makes it into town, they'll find the office. And if it's Lula who comes down, who's to say that Tank wouldn't have already given her all the info she needs to find us?"

"Babe."

"You don't know these women like I do, Ranger. They'll find me. And when they do, it won't be pretty."

Then he rolled us over so that he was on top and he brushed my hair out of my eyes. "Stephanie, stop worrying so much. Even if Lula managed to _**beat**_ the information out of Tank, it wouldn't do her any good. And when we go ashore, we'll be staying at my uncle's house, which is located in a gated community, on an island. No one's going to find us until we're ready to let them find us."

"So you say." My mind still was not at ease.

"Trust me, Stephanie," he said and he gently kissed me. "We are off-line and out-of-reach."

My stomach growled loudly and I asked, "What time is it, anyway?"

Ranger reached over to the nightstand, picked up his watch and grimaced. "It's a little past one in the afternoon, Babe. At the rate we're going, our time on the beach today might be limited to a moonlight stroll."

Part of me wanted to roll over and have another go at my Man of Mystery. Unfortunately, the practical part of me wanted and needed real food, real soon. Once again, my stomach reminded me that it had been a long time since last night's supper. Ranger was decisive; he slid off of me and pulled me to my feet. It was time to start our day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

I let Stephanie take a shower in our bathroom, while I took my things to the other empty guest cabin and washed up at the same time. It was good to have some privacy to collect my thoughts and make a new plan for our day of fun in the sun. Thankfully, my Babe didn't seem to have heard any of my conversation with Gonzo. As I finished my shower, I decided would tell her the bad news later, when we were on solid ground again.

Túlio greeted us warmly when we finally entered the salon. He fed us a great brunch of fancy omelets filled with cheese and diced vegetables, a variety of toasted bagels and lots of sliced fresh fruit. Afterward, I took Stephanie up to the cockpit and we chatted with the First Mate, Maria. Her husband, Captain Bob already had been fishing for at least an hour, so I escorted my Babe out to the deck to introduce her to the joys of catching our own food.

Before I allowed Stephanie to cast her first line into the waters, though, we went back inside where I slathered sunscreen all over every inch of her exposed skin. I remembered what she had told me about one of her other adventures on a yacht when she was married to Dickie. No way was I going to allow my Babe to get sunburned on my watch! I even took a photo with my cell phone when Stephanie caught her first fish. Then I surreptitiously sent it to Silvio so that he could print it out and frame it for me.

We stayed out on the ocean until the sun hung low in sky. After our ice chest was filled with enough red snapper and grouper for several good meals, we headed to Key Biscayne and my uncle's house. Cat's parents were quite well-off and their home had its own private boat slip, as well as a fabulous view of Biscayne Bay. Stephanie was speechless when she saw it.

The housekeeper, Frida, took very good care of all of us. It was obvious that she was friends with every member of the _Batcave's_ small crew. She was delighted with our catch and she and Túlio disappeared into the kitchen to discuss menu options after she had shown us to our rooms. I knew that we were going to eat very, very well for the rest of the weekend.

Stephanie and I took our time and showered together before dinner was served. Once again, my Babe's fiery passion amazed and thrilled me. I had to be careful, though. Despite my best efforts, her pale skin was a bit tender from the intense sun it had received that day. I vowed to be more vigilant and reapply the sunscreen more often when I took her to the beach the following day.

When we finally emerged from the guest suite, both of us dressed casually in shorts and T-shirts, we discovered that Frida and Tulio had set a romantic table for two out on the deck of the house. Since it faced west, we were able to watch the sunset as we ate our meal of grilled snapper with a spicy pineapple and mango chutney, yellow rice and tossed salad. I was prepared for Stephanie's complaints, but she devoured every morsel of her food. Then I had to laugh when she shyly asked if she could have a little more of the fish.

"You were right, Carlos," she shrugged and said, "This is the best fish I've ever tasted! I can't help wondering if I like it so much because I helped to catch it, or if it's just that I was starving."

"Probably, it's both," I said and I reached for Steph's left hand. The last rays of sunlight made the ring sparkle beautifully and I leaned over to kiss her. Then I asked her, "Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?"

Stephanie smiled brightly and nodded, so I informed Frida that we'd be gone for a while and I asked for a set of beach blankets to take with us. The wonderful old woman returned with a basket containing the rolled-up blankets, a covered bowl of fresh strawberries, a bottle of white wine and two wine glasses. Then, as the sky turned a darker shade of blue and the first stars began to appear, my Babe and I set out for the nearby tiny strip of beach.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

I'd never made love on the beach in such a manner before, but Ranger made it happen in such a way that I knew we'd be doing this again sometime in the future. It was perfect. The white sand underneath the blanket was so soft and even if someone had spotted us, the second blanket on top of us gave us a measure of privacy I really appreciated. Afterward, it was very nice to lie snuggled up together and gaze up at all the stars. Then Ranger had to go and ruin the moment.

"Steph, we need to talk," he began and my 'spidey senses' went crazy. No one likes to hear that particular phrase.

"Okay," I said and I held my breath.

Ranger continued, "Gonzo called me earlier today and gave me some very bad news. It's about Tommy Galarza, our skip from last night."

Part of me relaxed. Now, at least, I knew that this 'talk' wasn't going to be about our relationship. "What's the matter with him?"

"He's dead."

"D-dead?" My blood ran cold. "What h-happened?"

"The coroner is conducting an autopsy, but ... you _**might**_ be implicated in the man's death."

"Me?" I sat bolt-upright and then pulled the blanket up to cover my bare chest. "Why me?"

Ranger sat up and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "It's because of your 'lethal knee', Babe." At first, I thought he was joking, but when I gazed into his eyes I could see that he was being quite serious.

Now I was confused. "My knee? But that's ... that's ridiculous! No one ever died from a knee to the groin!"

"Maybe not," Ranger said, "But your actions might have put Tommy Galarza's body into such a state of shock that his cocaine-altered heart couldn't handle it."

"I don't understand."

"He died after a series of heart attacks, Babe. We're hoping the coroner will say that it was the drugs that did him in, but there's a slight chance that--"

I finished the sentence for him. "That someone will point their fingers at me and my 'lethal weapon' of a knee. When did you talk to Gonzo? I don't remember seeing you talk on your phone at all today. We _**agreed**_ that we wouldn't make any calls today."

Ranger sighed. "He called this morning while you were still asleep. We talked and I gave him some directions and then I came back to bed with you."

"Wait a minute! You talked to your cousin and then you _**went back to sleep**_?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing! "Why on earth would you do such a thing? A man is dead and I might have to answer for his death and you just let us sleep and play all day long?"

"Babe, I--"

"No, Ranger," I said angrily, as I scrounged around between the blankets to find my clothes and rammed myself back into them. "That wasn't right. You should have told me earlier."

"Why? So that you could sit around and worry all day long, instead?" Ranger's voice sounded almost sorrowful. "The coroner won't release his findings until Monday at the earliest. I thought it would be best to give you - to give _**us**_ - a day of freedom from all the sad and scary crap for a change. Don't you want to be free, Babe? I know I do." Then he placed the palm of his hand on my cheek and forced me to face him directly.

What I wanted was to stay angry at him. We both knew how much I hated to be shielded from important information - no matter how awful it might be. And we both knew that I liked to be given the opportunity to make decisions for myself, but when I looked into his pleading eyes, I just couldn't sustain my righteous indignation. My shoulders slumped and I sighed in resignation.

"Yes, of course I'd like to be free from all the lousy things that happen to me, but we've been through this before," I admitted. "Ranger, I need you to trust me with the truth. Our marriage won't survive very long if you continue to hide important information from me. I'm a grown-up, too, you know. And I should have the freedom to decide what I'll do about all the sad and scary crap. I probably won't do things the way that _**you**_ would do them, but that's okay, right?"

He stared at me without saying a word for what seemed to be several minutes. Realistically, it probably was only a few seconds, but they were a tense few seconds. When Ranger finally spoke, I was surprised to hear that his voice was thick with emotion.

"I ... I apologize," he began. "You are correct; I treated you with disrespect today. In fact, I treated you the same way your mother usually treats you - like a permanent adolescent. But you, Stephanie Plum, _**are**_ an adult. You're also the most fascinating woman I've ever known and I love you. This is my promise to you: from this moment on, I'll give you the consideration and respect you deserve. Please forgive me, Babe."

My breath caught in my throat and it took another long moment before I could answer him. "I forgive you, Carlos. I love you, too." That was all I could manage before his lips crushed into mine for a deep, healing kiss. This time, our coupling possessed a certain urgency to it, almost as though we were sealing a covenant. And I lost myself within Ranger's personal force field once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

Poets and song-writers talk about feeling the earth move underneath them when they're in the throes of great passion, but I always scoffed at such exaggeration. Nevertheless, when Stephanie and I made love on the beach after my earnest apology, it really felt as though the ground beneath us had shifted. Realistically, I know that didn't actually happen, but I believe that we both came away from that experience as different people. I believe I truly married my Babe that night, even though we hadn't yet exchanged our official vows.

The next day and a half went by way too fast. I drove Stephanie over to Crandon Park, on the other side of the Key, and we stretched out next to each other on our beach towels all day. Frida and Tulio had provided us with a well-stocked picnic basket, but I still bought an ice cream cone for my Babe. And as promised, I paid special attention to applying sunscreen all over her backside so that she wouldn't get sunburned. Then I made sure her front was fully protected, too. We were on a family-friendly beach, but no one was near us, so we had a good time.

Sunday dinner was another romantic affair on the deck. We ate the grouper with grilled vegetables this time and Stephanie seemed to like it, but not as much as she enjoyed the previous evening's meal. Obviously, Túlio must have told Frida about the 'ban' on baked treats, because we did not get to sample the tres leches cake Gonzo had raved about to me. Instead, Frida brought out melon halves filled with chunks of freshly cut papaya, mango and pineapple for our dessert.

The sky was overcast with clouds on Monday morning when we departed Key Biscayne. After re-packing our suitcases and loading our things back onto the _Batcave_, Stephanie and I thanked Frida for taking such good care of us. I even promised that we'd visit again when my uncle was back in town. Despite the rain, the short return trip the Miami Beach Marina was uneventful.

We had contacted Papí and Cat before we docked at the marina and they were on hand to meet us. They both came aboard and Túlio fixed a nice lunch for all of us. Papí made remarks about how happy we looked, while Cat complimented Steph on the beginnings of her tan. Then my Babe and I loaded our suitcases into the Mercedes and departed South Beach for the rest of the afternoon.

I hadn't heard from Gonzo yet, which meant that he hadn't heard from the coroner's office, either, but I figured it would be best if Steph and I spent some time at my RangeMan office anyway. It was good for us to review our statements about the events of Friday night and Saturday morning, as well as prepare for a visit from the police. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I wanted to be ready for any situation.

Stephanie and I also made the phone calls we'd been putting off for the past two days. Steph's mother still wasn't happy with her decision to elope with me, but it seemed that everyone else had calmed down and accepted the news. I was relieved to discover that Tank had accounted for everyone and that no one - especially not Edna Mazur or Lula - had departed Trenton in an attempt to come to Miami and sabotage our plans.

There were a few fine jewelry shops within walking distance of the RangeMan building, so Stephanie and I took a little stroll and looked at wedding rings. The first two shops had some very nice pieces on display, but we found what we wanted at the third store. They were matching bands of platinum with several diamonds set all the way around them. Steph didn't want gold rings because she'd had them with her first marriage to Dickie Orr and she now considered gold to be unlucky for her. I certainly wasn't going to argue with her logic.

At first, I didn't want to let Stephanie see the prices of all the rings, because I also wanted us to have plain bands for everyday wear. I planned to have them engraved with our names when we returned to New Jersey. Thankfully, I remembered our earlier conversation about being adults and I relented. I only reminded her that with her portion of the reward money for both Cantrell and Galarza, she could afford all the rings she'd ever wanted. To her credit, my Babe didn't faint when she saw the total cost.

Gonzo called me as soon as we received a fax from our inside contact at the coroner's office and we were relieved to find out that the news was good. The official statement said that the cause of Tommy Galarza's death was a heart attack which had been brought on by chronic abuse of cocaine. And although Stephanie's name, as well as the names of every person involved in the apprehension, appeared in the report, there was no mention of Stephanie's use of her personal 'lethal weapon' as being a contributing factor to Tommy's death. Of course, that didn't stop my men from making jokes about it after we returned to the office.

Whenever Stephanie entered a room, the men would cover themselves as though they were protecting their 'family jewels' from the Bombshell BEA. It was funny the first few times, but the humor wore off quickly. Steph retaliated by referring to the men as 'Merry Men' whenever she had the opportunity, but that didn't have the desired effect of annoying them. Oddly enough, my men decided they _**liked**_ her name for them. Remembering our almost-bet, I bought a McDonald's happy meal and a small milkshake for my Babe on our way back out to the _Batcave_.

"So, how do you feel?" I asked Steph as we drove across the causeway toward South Beach again.

She paused, holding a chicken nugget between her fingers, and said, "How do I feel about what?"

"Everything," I replied, thinking of the rings which were now resting in my pants pockets. "From our time here so far to our ... projected activities for tomorrow."

"Oh," she said and took a long sip of her milkshake. "I think it's been good - mostly, anyway."

"Having any second thoughts?"

"Not about tomorrow."

I smiled. That was all I needed to hear.

**

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A/N: You can see a close approximation of the wedding bands Ranger and Stephanie chose online at 'weddingbands (dot) com', item # 116141PP for the diamond bands and item # V123791PP for the plain, engraved bands. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! :D


	21. Chapter 21

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize here is usually someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money on this project .**

**A/N: It's been another hectic week for me and I haven't had much time to write. I teach classes in an adult education program and I'm taking a mandatory instructor re-certification course for the rest of this week, so my free time is scarce. This relatively short chapter is a bit of a 'detour' to provide a little twist into my story. It's told from multiple POVs. Enjoy! :D**

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Grandma Mazur's lived with my parents ever since my Grandpa Harry went to the big trans-fat farm in the sky. Grandma was a closet free spirit for the first seventy years of her life. She kicked the door open when my grandpa died, and now nobody can get her back in. Personally, I think she's great ... but then, I don't have to live with her.

_Plum Lucky_

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Chapter 21: The Escapee

**Tank's POV**

Ranger's going to kill me, I thought, as I tried not to get a speeding ticket. I had just reported to him over the phone that everyone in Trenton was present and accounted for, and that he didn't have to worry about anything. I was just getting ready to spend a fun evening with Lula; things were good between us again, especially since we'd kissed and made up after the incident in the lobby. Ella had been right - the 'peace offering' of cookies made all the difference in the world and Lula had accepted my explanations about Ranger and Stephanie's impromptu trip without too much of a fuss. Everything was cool on my end.

Then I discovered the escapee.

Actually, Bobby made the positive identification. He had been waiting at the Philadelphia airport to pick up his girlfriend's teen-aged brother, who was visiting a few colleges in the area. Apparently, the young man was a very good basketball player and several schools were trying to recruit him. Vivian didn't want her brother to be swayed by any sports recruiters prematurely, so she asked Bobby to meet him at the airport and bring him back to her apartment.

While Bobby was walking around inside the terminal, he noticed a familiar-looking cab pull up to the curb and an equally familiar-looking old woman got out, pulling her big suitcase behind her and went inside to the ticket desk. He recognized Stephanie Plum's grandmother right away, observed her closely and then called me with her flight information. Not surprisingly, Edna Mazur was headed to Miami and I decided to go after her - personally. There was no way I was going to allow anybody from that wacky family to ruin Ranger's plans.

"How will I recognize her?" I asked Bobby as soon as I arrived at the airport.

Vivian's brother's flight had been delayed due to the crappy weather we were still having, so Bobby was still at the airport when I got there. He had booked me on the next flight out to Miami, which would arrive only ten minutes after Edna Mazur's plane was scheduled to arrive. Assuming that nothing happened to delay my flight, I'd definitely be able to catch up to our escapee. She had checked her luggage and would have to wait for it to be unloaded, whereas, I just had my laptop and a carry-on bag of essentials. I only hoped that Lula would understand me - and forgive me - when I returned from this mission.

"You can't miss her," Bobby said, smiling widely at the memory. "She's wearing a neon green running suit - you know the kind she always wears. I took a photo and I'll send it to your phone now. I'm surprised that no one from airport security tried to persuade her to change outfits. Mrs. Mazur's clothes are so bright, they could blind somebody."

I shook my head in disbelief as I glanced at photo on the display of my cell phone. "Damn! I can't believe her family lets her go out in public dressed like this."

Bobby shrugged. "My old granny's just as crazy. No one can tell her what to do either. Besides, that outfit will make it easier for you to spot the woman once you get to Miami."

"You got that right, Brown."

"Have you contacted Ranger, yet?"

"Hell, no! I'm gonna catch our little escapee and neutralize her before she can do any damage. If all goes well, Ranger won't find out until after the fact, understand?"

Bobby looked horrified and he sputtered, "But Tank ... she's only a ... you can't just--"

"Relax, Brown. I don't mean _**neutralize **_neutralize," I said as I walked toward the security check-point. "I mean, I'm gonna make sure she doesn't ... interrupt anything, you know."

He stopped in his tracks and said, "Oh. Got it. I won't say a word."

"Thanks, Bobby." I nodded farewell to him and went through the check-point.

"Good luck, Tank."

I hurried through the airport terminal until I reached my gate. My body is way too bulky to fit into those tiny seats that most planes have back in coach, so I boarded the plane with all the other first-class passengers. Everything seemed to be on schedule and it looked like I'd be able to catch up to my escapee without too much of a hassle.

"Ready or not," I whispered to myself after I buckled my seatbelt and the airplane took off into the cloudy sky, "Edna Mazur, here I come!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Edna's POV**

"Pardon me, ma'am," said the nice-looking young man seated next to me. "Would you like to trade seats with me?"

I suppose he asked me this because I was sort of leaning over his lap so that I could get a better look at the tops of the fluffy white clouds outside the window on the other side of him. I only had flown in an airplane a few times in my life and I loved the fact that there was always a sunny, blue-sky day once the pilot took us above the clouds. It had been raining in Trenton for the past few days, so it was good to see the sun again. And it didn't hurt that the young man felt pretty healthy, if you know what I mean.

"You sure you don't mind?" I asked him in return, even as I unbuckled my seatbelt. "I don't want to cause you any trouble."

He chuckled and said in what I thought was a slight Southern accent, "Oh no, it's no trouble at all, ma'am. My grandma likes the window seat, too." Then he unbuckled his seatbelt and we quickly switched places while the flight attendant wasn't paying attention to us.

After we got settled and I had enjoyed the gorgeous view for a while, I turned to the young man and asked, "Does your grandmother travel a lot?"

He smiled widely and he answered, "Oh yes, ma'am. In fact, she and my grandfather are seated several rows behind us. They prefer to have seats closer to the restrooms. We just came up to attend my great aunt's funeral this past week in Trenton. Now we're headed back to Miami."

"Wait a minute," I said, "_**I'm**_ from Trenton, too. What's your name?"

"My name's Bradley Harris, ma'am," he replied. "But please call me Brad. My grandparents are Milton and Esther Nowicki. My mother, Barbara, is their middle daughter."

"Omigod!" I said. "I know them! Estelle Buczek was your great aunt?" I twisted around in my seat and tried to spot this young man's grandparents, but there were too many other people.

"Yes, ma'am," He replied, his long reddish-brown hair flopping into his face as he nodded.

"Well, ain't that a pip? Here I am, flying to Florida all by myself and I run into someone who's almost related to me. But please, stop calling me 'ma'am' so much! My name's Edna. Edna Mazur. And _**I**_ was at your grandmother's viewing on Wednesday and the funeral on Thursday." Then I reached over to shake his hand.

He smiled and said, "Alright, ma'a-- uh, Miss Edna. Pleased to meet you. I only came up North because my grandparents asked me to travel with them and help them out. They don't drive anymore and they didn't want to be a burden to anybody when they came up for the funeral, especially since my parents returned to Florida immediately after the services were over. Now, help me understand - how are we almost related? I didn't know my Great Aunt Estelle or her part of the family very well."

"Really, Estelle was just a good friend of mine - no relation," I explained. "Her son, Michael, was my daughter Helen's very first boyfriend and we always thought they might eventually stay together for the long haul. Unfortunately, Michael never asked Helen to go steady, so she ended up married to an Italian guy, Frank Plum, instead. I've been living with them ever since my husband died a while back."

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am, uh, Miss Edna," Brad said sincerely. "Grammy is always saying that it's a small world after all, and I guess she's right. This is so wild!"

"Yep! If things had turned out differently, I might have been related to you by marriage. Who would've guessed that I'd be seated on a plane next to someone with such a personal connection? This must be my lucky day; first of all, I escaped from my family for a little 'vacation' and now I've made a new friend and I already know half of his family."

"As soon as it's safe to walk around, we should go back and say 'hi' to Grammy and Pop-pop. I'm sure they'll be surprised to see you, too."

I nodded. "You betcha! I hardly got to say anything to them at the funeral. You know, they used to live one street over from where me and husband lived in the Burg. I remember all those kids they had - three girls and four boys, right?"

"That's right, ma'am," he replied. "And all of them are married with kids now, so I've got a whole lot of cousins, too."

"I _**thought**_ I recognized some of those kids at the funeral, but I don't recall seeing you there." Then I took a closer look at the young man and realized that he _**did**_ resemble Milton Nowicki, especially around the ears, which stuck out from his head through his long hair. "Of course, it was a bigger crowd than I would've thought - especially since it was raining so hard. And it was difficult to see people under all those umbrellas."

Brad laughed and said, "Pop-pop says that's why he and Grammy moved to Florida - to get away from the miserably cold weather up north."

"Oh, it's not so bad," I protested, but even as I said it, I realized how happy I was to be getting away from the cold rain for a few days myself. "Have you always lived in Florida?"

He nodded. "My folks live in Tallahassee, where my dad's a state senator, but my parents actually met and graduated from the University of Miami. I'm in my junior year there now and I live with my grandparents in Coral Gables to save money, as well as to help them out."

"Good for you! I'm sure your parents are very proud of you," I said. "I think I remember your mother now; Barbara was the one who left New Jersey after high school, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mama always said that the worst part of growing up in New Jersey was the cold weather and she escaped as soon as she could. She says she fell in love with Florida and my dad at the same time. They left Trenton and headed back home as soon as the funeral was over, but my grandparents wanted to hang around and visit with Pop-pop's family in Philadelphia through the weekend, so I stayed with them to drive the rental car."

"That's very nice of you. My granddaughter, Stephanie, often drives me around, too, unless she's busy with her job as a bounty hunter."

Brad's eyebrows shot up in amazement. "Wow! Your _**granddaughter**_ is a bounty hunter? Does she have a gun and kick down doors and everything?"

"Sometimes," I said and dropped my voice down to a whisper, "But it's not as exciting as you'd think. And she hardly ever carries her gun. I carry _**my**_ gun way more than Stephanie does. The only reason I don't have it with me now is that I didn't want any trouble getting on this plane."

Brad smiled. "You said you're going on a little vacation. Will you be staying in Miami?"

"I don't know yet," I admitted honestly. "First, I have to find Stephanie. She ran away to Miami to elope with this hot Cuban guy named Ranger - I hope. He's also a bounty hunter and _**I'm**_ trying to make sure the wedding actually happens."

"Whoa! Miami's a big city, Miss Edna. Do you have any idea where your granddaughter and her beau might be staying?"

I shrugged. "No. Not really. I figured I'd look up Ranger's business address when I got to Miami and go from there. You see, Helen wants Stephanie to marry a different guy - a cute cop she used to live with - but Frank and I really want Stephanie to be happy. It's practically the only the thing my son-in-law and I have agreed on in over a decade. In fact, he helped me get my plane ticket and he even drove me all the way to the airport in his cab. My daughter probably thinks he took me to another viewing at the funeral parlor, but she'll have figured out by now that I've escaped from her. Helen won't be pleased, but this is just something I really have to do."

"Maybe I can help. Excuse me for reaching over you," Brad said as he fumbled under the seat in front of me and pulled out a black leather case. He opened it and set up his laptop computer and then he glanced at me. "It might not be safe to get up and walk around, yet, but it's okay to operate electronic devices now. Just give me the name of the Cuban guy's business and I'll look it up for you."

"Jeez, you can do that while we're up in the air like this?"

"Yes, ma'am! So, what's the name of the business?"

"Well, he calls it 'RangeMan' in Trenton, so let's go with that."

Brad quickly typed in the name and said, "Bingo! It popped right up! There it is, on Biscayne Boulevard, so it should be fairly easy to find. It's says here that RangeMan of Miami is a 24-hour security company which caters to the most selective customers. Someone should be able to help you no matter what time you arrive on their doorstep. I'd offer to take you there myself after we land, but I've missed a full week of classes and I must get started on a ton of homework tonight."

"Don't you worry about that, young man. I can take a taxi," I insisted. "You've helped me enough just by finding out this information. It probably would've taken me all night to figure out where I should be going. Now I can head to Ranger's office right away and hopefully find my granddaughter."

"Do you think maybe you could visit with my grandparents after you find your granddaughter and before you return to Trenton, Miss Edna?" Brad asked after he had written down the RangeMan info for me and closed down his computer. "There's a guest room that my parents usually stay in when they come to Miami and I'm sure Grammy and Pop-pop would love to have you."

"It's really nice of you to offer, Brad, but I'd hate to impose. Let's check with your grandparents when we're allowed to get up and move around, okay?"

"It's no problem! In fact, I'll tell them that you're _**my**_ guest." Then he winked at me and I felt like a teenager all over again.

"Watch it, young man," I said playfully, "I may look old, but I can still bust a move!"

Brad laughed aloud and we had a good time talking about his studies in geriatric social work. We got up and walked back to speak with Brad's grandparents as soon as the pilot announced that we could "move safely about the cabin." Esther and Milton seemed genuinely pleased to see me again and we had a nice little chat before one of the flight attendants asked us to return to our seats.

When we were seated again, Brad told me about his recent internship working with the elderly at a retirement home near Orlando. I told him I never wanted to be imprisoned in one of those places and he insisted that some of them aren't so bad. Then I impressed him with my stories about my recent adventures with Lula and the barbeque sauce contest. I included every detail, including the parts about the crazy hit-men who chased after Lula and firebombed Stephanie's apartment, as well as the hostage situation in the park.

"It sounds like you lead quite the exciting life, Miss Edna. I wasn't kidding when I said you could be my guest. In fact, you could be one of my case studies. My sociology professors would get a kick out of talking to you. They're always glad to see 'young folks' like you having a good time in your later years."

"Just wait till I tell the gals back home about _**you**_, you flatterer! Do your grandparents know you flirt with little old ladies like this?"

"Absolutely! Pop-pop taught me everything I know," he admitted proudly. Then he glanced at me sideways and said, "Something just occurred to me; we have a neighbor - a widower, Mr. Zelnich - and I think you two might really hit it off with each other. Please say you'll visit us after your granddaughter's wedding. Please?"

I narrowed my eyes and asked, "Would my meeting with your neighbor be part of your 'case study', young man?"

"Oh no, ma'am!" Brad said with mock horror. "Perish the thought! I was just thinking that, well, you've been a widow for quite a while and Mr. Zelnich has been a widower for about the same amount of time, and Grammy and Pop-pop are always calling around the neighborhood to find a fourth person so they all can play bridge. You _**do**_ play bridge, don't you Miss Edna?"

"Of course I do! Now, what's this Mr. Zelnich like? I don't want to be paired up with just anybody, you know."

"He's very nice and he's originally from Boston," Brad said. "Gray hair, brown eyes, nice-looking dentures. He and his late wife moved down to Coral Gables in the early nineteen-eighties, when my grandparents did. Miami real estate was in a slump back then because of the race riots and all the boat people and everything and they were able to buy their homes relatively cheaply. Now, the houses in their neighborhood sell for much higher prices. I'm pretty sure Mr. Zelnich owns his home outright, just like Grammy and Pop-pop."

"How come he's still unattached?"

Brad hesitated. "Well, he's what you might call a little ... eccentric. He lost his regular driver's license, so he rides around the neighborhood in a second-hand golf cart. Whenever his grown kids come down and try to boss him around, he takes out his hearing aids and refuses to listen to them. He's been my friend since I was a little guy who used to spend the political campaign seasons with my grandparents while my folks did what they had to do. I think Mr. Zelnich is the main reason I've decided to become a social worker with an emphasis on the elderly."

"Wow! He does sound like my kind of man." Alive, that is.

"Then you'll come and stay with us?" Brad looked so eager.

"After I find Stephanie and Ranger," I agreed. "And only _**after **_I make sure they've really gotten married down here. I can't allow them to return to Trenton as just an engaged couple or else my daughter will ruin it for them. I know Helen means well, but she's got to let Stephanie be Stephanie and it's way past due for that to happen."

"You really love your granddaughter, don't you?"

"You betcha!" I said. Then I began to explain, "Don't tell her sister Valerie, but Stephanie's always been my favorite. Poor thing; she's always had the worst luck with jobs and men. Joseph Morelli has held her attention off and on ever since she was a little girl, but nothing ever came of it. She dated a series of okay guys back in her high school and college days, but I never was impressed with any of them. Then she married a complete horse's ass, named Dickie Orr. With a name like that, Stephanie should have known better. In fact, her father and I tried to warn her, but Helen was bamboozled by the guy's law degree. My granddaughter has always wanted her mother to be proud of her and I guess that's what allowed her to be bamboozled, too. Anyway, that marriage only lasted for a hot minute because the rat cheated on her - with Stephanie's arch enemy, no less."

"That's really awful."

"Yep. So Stephanie's been on her own ever since the divorce, except for a little cohabitation with that cutie-pie-hoodlum-turned-cop, Joseph Morelli. She almost married him a couple of times, but they kept getting into fights over stupid stuff like Stephanie's job. Of course, Joseph is Helen's choice for her daughter and the whole family likes him, too. Nevertheless, he's just not the right man for my granddaughter."

"But the Cuban guy is?"

I nodded vigorously. "There's no doubt in my mind. Stephanie gets into a lot of trouble and Ranger's like her own personal Batman. He's always there for her whenever she needs his help and he doesn't seem to mind the fact that she's a bounty hunter, too. I don't think my granddaughter would be alive if it wasn't for Ranger. I just wish my daughter could understand that for herself."

"It sounds like you and your daughter have a lot of differences of opinion."

"Oh, don't get me wrong about Helen," I explained. "She's always been a wonderful wife to Frank and a marvelous mother to both Valerie - her oldest - and Stephanie. Of course, she _**ought **_to be that way, because that's how I raised her. Most days, I'm satisfied with the way things in Helen's household have turned out. Sometimes, though, I wish I'd done things differently."

The flight attendant stopped next to Brad and offered beverages to us. I chose to have a Bloody Mary cocktail and Brad chose a ginger ale. We both accepted our complimentary peanuts and pretzels with barely-disguised disdain, especially after I lectured the flight attendant about the 'good old days' when everybody - even the passengers in the coach section - received a hot meal. After we ate our pitiful snacks, I continued to tell Brad about my life in Trenton. He was very easy to talk to.

"I married my husband, Helen's father, Harry Mazur, when I was eighteen and we stayed together through thick and thin. You see, I couldn't seem to carry a baby to full term and right after the doctors told us we'd never be have children, we had Helen. She was our little 'miracle baby' and I did everything I could to do to make sure she had a safe childhood, especially because I knew I wouldn't be having any more kids."

"It sounds like you wish you'd had more fun with her, instead."

"Yeah, I do wish that. When my husband died, he left me to survive without much of a retirement fund. Turns out, Harry was the one who'd been having lots of fun all along. In fact, he had used up most of our savings on trips to Atlantic City to bet on the horses or to play the slots. After his death, I had to move in with my daughter's family and it's been one big pain in the patoot ever since."

"You've said that you don't often agree with either your daughter or your son-in-law. Was it always that way?" Even though he wasn't writing anything on paper, it almost felt like Brad was interviewing me, but I decided to continue telling him my story, anyway.

I shook my head. "When Frank Plum first began to court my daughter, I thought he was quite the good catch for her, what with his full head of dark wavy hair and his nice-looking package. He definitely was an 'Italian stallion' - just like Joseph Morelli - now that I think about it. Of course, Harry didn't like the fact that Frank wasn't any part Hungarian, but Helen had her heart set on the man, so my husband finally gave them his blessings and they got married when she was almost twenty. Helen got pregnant with Valerie right away - which, as you can imagine, was quite a relief to me. They had the two girls, raised them nearby in the Burg and sent them both to college in New Jersey. It was a nice little family."

"Everything sounds okay, so far. What happened?"

"I don't really know. Overall, I'd say that Helen feels unfulfilled as a woman. I know I was that way, too, but that's just the way it was for those of us in my generation. I finally took charge of my life after Harry died, but Helen's still struggling to find her happy place. I think my daughter wishes she'd had a career at some point and lately she's been taking classes to become a nurse's aide. I'm real proud of her for doing that. Her main problem is that she still worries too much about every little thing - especially Stephanie."

"And your son-in-law?"

"Frank's retired from the post office now, and he drives a cab part-time. He's a good man, but we argue over everything from who gets to use the bathroom first thing in the morning to whether or not he should give me free rides in his taxi. I think he's just set in his ways - a lot like my Harry was - and he doesn't like for things or people in his household to bother him. Frank doesn't like change."

"Won't Stephanie's marriage change a lot of things?"

"Yes, but _**those**_ changes will be for the best. That's what Frank told me when he was driving me to the airport. And, like I said, it's practically a miracle that we finally agreed on something."

For emphasis, I had slapped the palm of my hand on the surface of the seat tray. Unfortunately, that wasn't the smartest move. The impact upset the little plastic cup and the remainder of my drink splashed onto my lap. Brad gave me his paper napkins, and so did the nice lady who was sitting across the aisle from us, but it was no use. I now had ugly red stains all over the front of my neon green velour leisure suit.

By the time the flight attendant arrived with a can of club soda and a wad of paper towels, I knew I'd have to change out of my outfit as soon as possible. The problem was that I had checked my luggage and I only had my swimsuit and a change of underwear and socks in my carry-on bag. My spirits sunk as I realized that I would have to get off of the plane looking like I'd been shot in the doodah.

"Don't worry about a thing, Miss Edna," Brad said kindly. "I know for a fact that Grammy always packs an outfit in her carry-on bag and I'm sure she wouldn't mind lending it to you. After all, this is a clothing emergency. It might be difficult for you to change clothes in the restroom, but if you hurry, you can do it before we start to descend."

Esther, of course, was very happy to lend me her spare outfit. She opened the overhead luggage compartment, quickly located her bag and gave me the clothes. Brad was right - it _**was**_ difficult to change clothes in the tiny airplane restroom, but I managed it anyway. I immediately realized that Esther's taste is much more conservative than mine, but I thought I looked pretty good in the navy blue pants and matching jacket. It was sad that I wouldn't stand out in a crowd the way I would have in my neon green outfit. However, it felt much better to be wearing dry, stain-free clothes.

When I returned to my seat, I discovered that the flight attendants had covered it with a layer of newspapers to shield me from any lingering dampness. Since the pants were so dark, I figured that the newsprint wouldn't show up on the fabric if it rubbed off. Maybe, I thought, I should travel in darker clothes from now on.

Once we landed in Miami, Brad, Esther and Milton escorted me to the baggage claim area and we exchanged contact information while we waited together. When we all had our bags, they helped me hail a taxi and Brad told the driver exactly where to take me. Then we said our farewells and I promised to visit them before I returned to Trenton.

A funny thing happened, though, as I waved to my friends. I swear I saw a man who looked just like that RangeMan giant, the one they call Tank. I only glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as my taxi began to pull away from the curb, but he didn't seem to recognize me. Anyway, I figured that my eyes were probably tired from the long day of travel and that it wasn't really Tank after all.

"Ready or not," I whispered to myself after I buckled my seatbelt and the taxi merged out into traffic, "RangeMan of Miami, here I come!"

**

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**A/N: Once again, I must thank you all for the many encouraging reviews - even though I haven't responded to them yet. As you might guess from this chapter, things are about to become a bit more interesting for Ranger and Stephanie. And the next chapter is shaping up to be another long one. Please let me know what you think of my work so far. Thanks! :D**


	22. Chapter 22

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here.**

**A/N: Real life truly has been kicking my butt lately and I've really missed out on being able to write and post updates more frequently. Hopefully, you all haven't forgotten everything about my story, but here's a long note to go with this extremely **_**long**_** chapter. In fact, this is my longest chapter, so far! To recap: This story picks up at the end of FLF, after the barbeque contest and after Stephanie helped Ranger find the young criminals who tried to destroy his business - all of which, according to JE, happened on a Tuesday in early November. In my story, Joe broke up with Stephanie in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. On Wednesday afternoon Steph met Jenna Cafferty and tackled her fugitive father, John Cantrell. Wednesday night, Ranger took Steph to the safe house in North Trenton and informed her of the large monetary reward she would receive for her part in the capture. Thursday evening, Ranger and Stephanie flew to Florida and stayed at his apartment in the RangeMan of Miami building. On Friday, Steph met the Miami crew of Merry Men, including Ranger's cousin, Gonzo; Ranger and Steph obtained a marriage license from the county clerk, who also happened to be another cousin, Sara; Steph went shopping with Silvio's wife, Juanita, and then she met Ranger's grandfather, Papí Suarez, along with cousins Val and Cat, at their club and learned how to dance with Ranger. Also, early Friday evening, Ranger revealed to Steph that the **_**Batcave**_** was actually a yacht; they shared a romantic dinner and Ranger officially proposed to Stephanie by placing his grandmother's ring upon her finger; they went back to the club, where they watched Val's drag queen show and Steph used her 'lethal knee' to disable and apprehend another federal fugitive, Tommy Galarza. On Saturday, Ranger learned that Galarza had died of a heart attack while in RangeMan custody; Ranger showed Steph how to fish; they arrived at Key Biscayne and became brutally honest with each other later that night. They spent Sunday on the beach. On Monday, they sailed back to South Beach and then went to downtown Miami to buy their wedding rings. Fortunately, Steph wasn't implicated in Galarza' death and the relieved couple returned to the **_**Batcave**_**. Monday evening, Grandma Mazur 'escaped' from Trenton and flew down to Miami to find Stephanie; Tank chased after her. Phew! The following chapter, which is full of lots of POVs, takes place late Monday night and Tuesday - only one week after the end of FLF! Wow, there's so much going on! Enjoy!! :D**

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__Ranger was wearing a perfectly fitted black tux, black shirt, black-on-black striped silk tie. I've seen him in SWAT black fatigues, black T-shirt and jeans, black slacks and jacket, and I've seen him naked. He always looks great, but Ranger in a tux was a heart-stopper. **Almost** as good as Ranger naked. Almost, because nothing was better than Ranger naked._

_--Fearless Fourteen_

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**Chapter 22: Something Borrowed**

**Stephanie's POV**

Moonlight streamed in through the porthole windows of our cabin onboard the _Batcave_. Thankfully, the rain had tapered off and the weather was calm again. I could hear the waves as they softly slapped against the sides of the yacht and the dolphins were whistling and squeaking out there, too. Everything around me seemed perfect as I cuddled with Ranger in our big bed; however, I wasn't able to prevent a wistful sigh from escaping through my lips.

Ranger shifted his weight and propped himself up on one arm to look down into my eyes. "What's wrong, Babe?"

"Nothing," I lied, but then I quickly added something truthful which hopefully would throw him off track. "I was just thinking about all the things that have been happening in my life lately."

It was hard to believe that barely one week earlier, I had helped Ranger catch the young thieves who had tried to ruin him. Joe broke up with me for good this time and I decided to give my relationship with Ranger a fighting chance. The very next day, I tackled my first federal fugitive - someone who was worth the _**big **_bucks - and Ranger helped me turn in. Time seems to have zoomed past ever since I made my decision to stay with the Man of Mystery and he brought me to Miami.

I've been amazed at everything we've seen and done since we've been down here. Who would've guessed that Ranger's apartment in Miami looks almost exactly like his apartment in Trenton? And the Batcave is a yacht! As Grandma Mazur would say - what a pip! Ranger taught me how to dance with him and how to fish in the ocean - and I've discovered that I truly enjoy both activities. We even captured another federal fugitive while we were out having fun at the club Ranger owns with a few of his favorite cousins. And tomorrow, Batman and I would be married.

Earlier that evening, Chef Túlio fed us - Ranger, Papí Suarez, Cat and me - another fabulous meal of grilled red snapper, yellow rice and grilled fruit-kabobs. We had a great time talking about Val's show and all the celebrities we'd seen at the club. Then Cat made me laugh as she told more stories about the high school misadventures of Ranger, Val and Gonzo. Papí had decided to give us more privacy, so he went back to the club to stay overnight in his granddaughter's apartment again.

After they left, Ranger and I sat by ourselves in the yacht's huge salon and talked about our plans for the next couple of days. Our plan was to get married on Tuesday morning and then enjoy a twenty-four-hour honeymoon in a nearby beachfront hotel, with the understanding that we would celebrate our wedding on a much longer trip right after the holidays. On Wednesday, we were scheduled to depart Miami on an early afternoon flight back to Philly. Then we hoped to 'sneak' back into Trenton and the Haywood building to catch our breath before we ventured over to the Burg and my parent's house to show them that we really were married. The rest of the week was already set with a court hearing on Thursday and then Ranger's Grandma Rosa's birthday party on Friday. I already couldn't wait for next weekend to arrive.

Ranger had informed me that it would be easier for us if we just went to the courthouse located in Miami Beach to get married, instead of driving all the way back downtown to the main courthouse. That way, we could have our 'quickie' wedding first and then spend the rest of the day together on the beach, which he knew was all I really wanted to do on our last day in Florida. Ranger suggested that we check-in to one of the ritzy hotels in South Beach so that we wouldn't have to return to the marina after our wedding. Not surprisingly, I thought his plans were brilliant and I told him so.

"Besides," he continued, "Gonzo has a spy in the main courthouse - a cousin on his father's side of the family - and he thinks I don't know about that. If we went there, I wouldn't be surprised if 'something came up' with our paperwork or if some other sort of delay occurred while we were waiting for our turn with the Justice of the Peace. It also wouldn't surprise me if a bunch of RangeMan employees just happened to show up there and they messed with our car."

"Aww, Ranger, don't you want your Merry Men to tie a bunch of tin cans to the back bumper and write 'Just Married' on the windows?" I joked.

"Not on the Mercedes," he growled, clearly not in a joking mood about the potential defacing of his very nice car.

"Speaking of the Mercedes," I began slowly, "I was thinking; it really is a fabulous car and I'd love to drive it around back in Jersey, but ... but I think I want a Cayenne - just like the one you drive. Only ... I'd like mine to be silver, instead of black."

"Good choice, Babe. I like it," he said and he playfully kissed me on the tip of my nose. "Consider it done. I'll place the order tomorrow and it might even be ready by the time we get home."

I shook my head and said, "No, Carlos,_** I **_want to buy it - with some of that reward money I've been raking in lately. You said I could afford to buy nicer things now."

"But, Steph--" Ranger began to protest, but I lifted the palm of my hand to stop him.

"Please let me do this for myself," I practically begged. "I know you'll want your people to install a tracking device and a gun compartment in my car - and I'm fine with that, I really am. But, Carlos, I _**need **_to buy this car with my own money. It's important to me."

He slowly nodded and I felt grateful that this wasn't going to turn into a major battle. Truthfully, I already guessed that if I chose the kind of car Ranger trusted for his own use, he'd have a difficult time refusing my request. And, yes, I knew it would be easier and much cheaper for me to give in and let him buy the darned car for me, but I wanted us to start off our married life on equal footing - or at least, as equal as I could make it. My Man of Mystery had already found enough 'loopholes' in the bargain I had made before we came down here and I'd barely paid for anything during our stay - not even my own McDonald's Happy Meal.

"One more thing, Babe," Ranger said and he pulled out a manila envelope full of official-looking papers. "We need to talk about our traveling aliases so that you'll know who you're supposed be after I change our reservations."

"Traveling aliases?" I asked.

He nodded once. "Yes. Remember when we took the train to Virginia to search for clues about Edward Scrog?"

"You traveled under a different name," I recalled. "Mark Something-or-other, right?"

"Marc Pardo."

"Now I remember! I asked you if that was a stolen identity and you told me that it was all yours."

"That's right. It's one of the aliases I maintain in order to mask my identity when I travel. Tank has a few of them, too. If you ever see the names of 'Larry Baker' or 'Paul Saunders' pop up on your caller ID, that's Tank."

Then Ranger pulled out some of the papers and spread them on the table in front of me. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw two sets of passports, with official-looking photos of both Ranger and me, except, I don't remember posing for mine at all. I picked up one set of the small, dark blue folders and read the names: Marc Antonio Pardo and Stella Marie Pardo. The other set belonged to Rico and Michelle Morales.

Narrowing my eyes at Ranger, I asked, "Stella Marie Pardo?"

He shrugged. "You can blame Silvio. It's sort of a combination of Stephanie and Ella and I think Marie is also Juanita's middle name. He told me that he picked that combination because it gives you the same initials you're accustomed to writing."

I scowled at his slight smirk. "And Michelle Lynn Morales?"

"Easy to remember because it combines your middle name and your sister's middle name."

"How did Silvio find out Valerie's middle name?"

"Babe."

I was momentarily stunned as I shuffled through all the paperwork. Here were two completely fabricated life histories for me - birth certificates, high school diplomas, driver's licenses, _**marriage **_licenses and more - and I'd had nothing to do with their creation. According to these documents, 'Marc and Stella Pardo' had been married for over two years. And 'Michelle Morales' had been married to her husband, 'Rico' - whose initials were the same as Ranger's - for almost five months. When I glanced up at my Man of Mystery, he had assumed his blank face. Clearly, he was waiting to see my reaction before he said anything else.

"_**Un**_believable!" I softly exclaimed. "Every time I turn around, I discover something new with you. What am I supposed to think about all this, Carlos? Are you some sort of government spy? And now that we're getting married, am I going to have to become whatever it is that you are, too? Who _**are **_you, Ranger?"

"I'm the man who loves you with all of my heart, Babe," he answered without hesitation. "But I'm also a man with ... lots of secrets. I told you -our government has trained me to use my special talents and abilities in a variety of ways. I've recently come to the end of one term of service, and I've tentatively signed on for another term. Only this time, my handlers have agreed to limit my assignments to domestic affairs."

I shook my head in disbelief and asked, "Domestic affairs? I don't understand. What does that mean?"

Ranger grasped my hands and held them within his. Then he gazed into my eyes and spoke with an intensity that nearly took my breath away. "What that means is that I won't get sent overseas to Central or South America anymore. It means that I'll be chasing down fugitives within our own country's borders and maybe the Caribbean, but _**not **_throughout the jungles and hell-holes of the whole wide world. It means that you can come along with me on some of my adventures - that is, once you've had a bit more training in martial arts and defensive driving techniques. Or ... you can just stay behind the scenes and help with the day-to-day operation of RangeMan. Or you could do a mix of both. There are several options, Babe. You're free to choose whatever suits you best."

I blinked in surprise. "I ... I don't know what to say."

"For now, all you have to do is choose an alias so that Silvio can change our flight reservations."

"Which one do you like best?"

Ranger answered, "They're both good aliases, but I think we should be 'Rico and Michelle' this time around. Too many of my men know 'Marc Pardo' and I'm worried that someone will try something funny at either the hotel or the airport. Silvio just secured the 'Morales' identities for us - and he's sworn to secrecy about it - so we might be able to fly under the radar for a little while longer."

"Okay, then, I guess I can be Michelle for a day or two," I agreed. Then I picked up the Morales passports and wondered aloud, "What if ... if I hadn't agreed to marry you, _**Rico**_?"

He smiled wryly and said, "We'd still need aliases to work on some of our cases together. Remember, I already wanted you to be my partner in the fugitive apprehension business, regardless of your decision to marry me. After Cantrell's arrest, I started to work on a list of bad guys for us to pursue next. And now that you've helped to capture Tommy Galarza, the feds just might give us more substantial leads on other fugitives we can chase down in the near future."

"You mean the near future _**after **_our big honeymoon, right?"

Ranger laughed aloud and said, "Babe, you never disappoint!"

After we had agreed on both our short-term and long-term plans, Ranger and I took a long, steamy shower together and we went to bed feeling very content. However, the moment I sighed and told Ranger that I'd been thinking about the events of the past week, he was alert to any potential issues. His concern was evident in his dark eyes as he gazed down at me.

"Are you ... having any doubts ... about tomorrow?" He sounded slightly worried.

I shook my head and quickly reassured him, "No, no. I'm ready - _**more **_than ready - to be married to you, Carlos. In fact, I'm even ready to get up with you at the crack of dawn so we can be at the courthouse right when they open. It's just that..." And I let the words trail off, shaking my head in disbelief, because I felt so stupid for thinking what I was thinking.

Ranger sat up straighter and pulled me up with him to sit on his lap. "What's going on inside of that beautiful head of yours?" He asked as he kissed my forehead and then he coaxed, "C'mon, Babe, I know something's bothering you. And although it seems like I can read your mind, this time you're going to have to tell me out loud."

"It's silly," I began to explain, "especially because I'm sure they'd only cause more trouble, but I wish ... I wish that some of my family and friends were here to see us get married. Like, maybe my parents and Grandma Mazur, Valerie and the girls, Mary Lou, Lula and Connie, or even Tank and the Merry Men of Trenton. You know - the people who know us the best. It feels like it's not fair that you've already got a lot of family and friends in Miami, but I ... I don't have anyone here."

Ranger gazed down at me for a moment and then he spoke slowly and carefully, as though he was trying to maintain a grip on his own emotions, "Stephanie, I promise that _**none **_of my family will be at the courthouse tomorrow; it'll just be us and the Justice of the Peace and the witnesses provided by the court. That's what we agreed on earlier tonight. You said you didn't want another big wedding. You even said that it was a _**relief **_to know that we wouldn't be bothered by all of the Burg's craziness about weddings. In fact, not two hours ago, you told me that you were _**glad **_you didn't have to choose between Lula and Mary Lou as to who would stand up for you."

"I know, I _**know**_!" I moaned, feeling awful about my wavering. "And I truly meant what I said, but ... but now it feels kind of weird that we're going to get married in front of total strangers. It just seems so ... so cold and impersonal - sort of like a ... a business transaction."

"Babe." He sounded hurt.

"Okay, maybe not a business transaction, but definitely impersonal," I said. "That is, unless the Justice of the Peace who'll marry us is one of your cousins, too. It seems like everybody in Miami is related to you in one way or another."

This made Ranger smile and he shook his head. "As far as I know, I don't have any cousins or other relatives working at the courthouse in _**this **_part of Miami. But we could ask Papí and Cat to meet us there and be our witnesses if that would put your mind at ease. It's only--" and he picked up his wristwatch to check the time. "It's not even eleven o'clock yet, Babe. Papí stays up late to watch Letterman and I know that Cat is a true night-owl, too. They wouldn't mind if we called them at this hour of the night, especially if it means that we're asking them to stand up for us."

I chewed on my bottom lip. "But I thought you said it might cause problems with your family in New Jersey if any of your Miami relatives got to be at our wedding."

Ranger shrugged. "Stephanie, that's a risk I'm willing to take. They'll get over it; and if they don't, well, that's _**their **_problem. I'm more concerned about _**your **_happiness right now than about any hurt feelings my family might have in the future."

I thought about this for a moment and sighed again. "No, don't call Papí and Cat. Really, I'm just being silly." Then I rested my head on his solid chest and listened to the calming rhythm of his heart beating. "Carlos, it means a lot to me that you're so willing to cause a family rift over my desire to have people I know at our wedding; however, I'd rather not start off our married life with that sort of cloud hanging over our heads."

"Are you sure, Babe?" His arms tightened around me in a reassuring embrace and I felt him kiss the top of my head.

I snuggled into him and said. "Yes, I'm sure. Everything will be just fine. And by this time tomorrow, we'll have been married all day and none of my silliness will have mattered one bit." Then I lifted my face to his and gently kissed his lips. The kiss quickly deepened, which, of course, led to another fabulous round of love-making and all the other silly thoughts completely vanished from my consciousness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Danny Cruz's POV**

Okay, so I'm the new guy around here at RangeMan of Miami. And sure, I understand that I have to 'pay my dues' and endure the harassment of my co-workers until I'm not the company 'newbie' anymore. My Aunt Rosalinda helped me to get this job and I'm grateful to have it, especially in today's economy. But, damn! I was having the never-ending day from hell!

First of all, I had gotten up several hours earlier than my normal wake-up time so that I wouldn't be late for my 'date' on the gym mats with the main boss-man, who was only supposed to be in town for a few days. I used to compete in the local Mixed Martial Arts circuits, so I figured I wouldn't get beat to a pulp by the 'big boss' - a.k.a. Carlos Mañoso, a.k.a. Ranger. Many of my co-workers are ex-military men and my aunt told me that a bunch of those guys, including our big boss, used to be Army Rangers, and that's why the company is called RangeMan. Pretty cool, huh?

Well, let me tell you, the middle school-style pranks were _**not**_ cool. I mean, we're all adults here, right? My aunt had warned me that the men usually pranked the newbies, especially anyone like me, who hadn't served in the military. After five weeks on the job, though, I was tired of the crap!

When I arrived at the gym this morning, there was some sort of greasy gunk - which I hoped was Vaseline - smeared all over the handle of my locker. It was totally disgusting! And when I opened my locker, I discovered that someone had stuffed it with a whole bunch of small water balloons. A few of them had burst and soaked half of my gear. Seriously, it wasn't a good way to start my day.

I became angrier and angrier as I removed the balloons and cleaned up the mess caused by more of the stupid things bursting when I touched them. I knew I was being 'punished' for getting a speeding ticket on my way to the airport to drop off Carlos' car. My every-day boss, Gonzo, had assigned me to front-desk duty, working the late shift until I could prove myself to be responsible again. Unfortunately for me, my co-workers seemed determined to make me work extra hard for it.

So there I was, angry and dog-tired, waiting - as ordered - in the building's gym on the first floor since five o'clock in the morning. I just wanted to get the beating over with, especially since I knew that I'd have to be on duty all night. After an hour and a half of waiting in the gym by myself, two of the dayshift guys came in to do their workout and they asked me why I had come in so early. When I explained the deal to them, they began to grin slyly at me. Then I realized that I'd been played for a fool.

"Dude!" one of the guys said as he slowly shook his head, "Carlos is down here in Miami on R & R. You know - rest and relaxation? He's not likely to come in here this early and waste his vacation time busting your lame ass over a stupid speeding ticket."

The other guy laughed and said, "Yeah, especially since he brought his woman - the Bombshell BEA, Stephanie Plum - with him. We got to meet her on Friday and she is _**fine**_! Whoever told you to come in early this morning was just yanking your chain, newbie. I guarantee you, there's _**no way**_ our boss-man would leave a warm bed with his woman still in it. I know I sure wouldn't!"

I felt like a complete fool. Telling someone to be somewhere at some ridiculous time of day was one of the oldest pranks in the book and I had fallen for it - hook, line and sinker. And since it was Gonzo who had told me to be in the gym so early, I didn't think there was any way I could get revenge. But I silently vowed that if I ever found out who pulled the grease and water balloon pranks, I wouldn't show _**them **_any mercy.

Adding insult to injury, after I had gone back to my apartment and slept for several hours, I walked in to the company kitchen just in time to see some of the guys eating donuts. We never had donuts here at RangeMan! My aunt told me that Carlos Mañoso insisted on providing his employees only healthy foods, so she never put any of the 'good stuff' out in the kitchen. In fact, her husband Shelly was the only man in the building who ate junk food on company time. When I asked what was going on with the sudden appearance of donuts, Silvio just shook his head and smiled at me.

"You missed out, newbie. I just snagged the last one of these," Silvio said, and he waved his half-eaten Boston crème donut in my face. "Rosie bought a whole box of 'em for Stephanie Plum, but Ranger's apparently got her on the same sort of healthy diet as the rest of us now and she wouldn't eat them. There were still plenty leftover donuts after Shelly had eaten his fill and Rosie didn't want them to go to waste, so she offered the contraband to us."

"Won't Carlos be mad when he finds out?" I asked. I know that a lot of my co-workers called our boss by his nickname, Ranger, but I still thought of him as Carlos.

"Nah! Besides, who in his right mind would tell him?" Silvio fixed me with a very meaningful stare. Then he popped the rest of the gooey pastry into his grinning mouth and said, "Mmm ... this tastes _**so **_good!"

I sighed pathetically and silently wondered why my aunt hadn't saved a donut for me. It was hard to admit, but I felt a bit disappointed about that. I mean, why should I become all misty-eyed over not getting a friggin' pastry? Jeez! _**Man up**_, I finally told myself. If I really wanted a stupid donut so much, I could just go out and buy one.

Anyway, it was almost eleven o'clock at night when I noticed a little old lady get out of a taxi and walk up to the glass panel doors at the front of the building. She had one of those big, rolling suitcases with her and it made me wonder if she was some sort of escapee Alzheimer's patient who thought this was her apartment building. When she saw me sitting behind my desk, she began to bang on the glass so hard, I thought she might accidentally crack it.

I just sat there and stared at her in disbelief. The city of Miami had come a long way in the past decade, cleaning up this part of town and making it a lot safer than when I was a little kid, but even RangeMan locked its doors at night. My standing orders were to not let anyone into the building unless it was for official business, which usually meant only our company's employees or the cops. I wasn't quite sure what to do about the old woman. Then, remembering everything else that had happened to me today, I began to realize that I probably was becoming the victim of yet another prank.

This time, though, my co-workers had gone too far and my temper began to flare up. It was one thing for the guys to leave a mess for me in the locker room, but it was an entirely different thing to lure some poor, unsuspecting old lady into taking part in one of their stupid pranks. And it was another thing to cause me to stand around in the gym and wait for someone who never was going to show up, but to try to trick me into disobeying my orders was a bit much. For all I knew, the guys on monitor duty were up in the control room, laughing their asses off and waiting for me to screw up so that they could catch it all on film.

I took a deep, calming breath and punched the button to activate the exterior intercom speaker. "Good evening, ma'am. May I help you?"

Startled by my disembodied voice, she stopped banging on the door and leaned in, cupping her bony hands around her eyes to try to see inside more clearly. "Is this RangeMan of Miami?" she asked. It sounded like she was a hundred years old.

"Yes ma'am, it is."

"Good! I need to talk to my granddaughter right away. Please let me in."

Now I was convinced that this had to be part of some ill-conceived prank. First of all, RangeMan of Miami didn't have any female employees - except, of course, my Aunt Rosalinda. And even if it did, there was no reason for someone's grandmother to come to the building so late at night. I could just imagine the guys upstairs laughing at my confusion.

"I'm very sorry ma'am, but unless you have official business here, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Hah! Take _**that**_, you control room jerks! Even though I hadn't served in the military, I knew how to follow orders and adhere to the proper procedures.

Just then, a second taxi pulled up to the curb in front of our building and a huge, brown-skinned man unfolded himself from the back seat. He called out to the old woman and she turned to look at him. Her eyes lit up with recognition and so did mine. I remembered the giant man, especially because, as part of my job interview, I had to fight against him so that he could assess my martial arts skills. Obviously, the man everyone called 'Tank' and the little old lady knew each other and when she pointed her bony finger at me through the glass door and spoke to him, I knew I was screwed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Tank's POV**

After more than thirty minutes of wading through bunches of cranky old people at the Miami airport, I finally gave up and went to the security office. One of my buddies from my early Army days worked the night shift there and I knew he'd let me take a look at tonight's security camera recordings. After studying my cell phone photo of Edna Mazur, my buddy spotted Edna Mazur's face on one of the video screens within a few minutes. Surprisingly, though, she wasn't wearing the neon green outfit. I definitely felt relieved that it was her change of clothing - and not a sudden deterioration of my tracking skills - which caused me to lose her in the crowd.

"So, this little old lady - what'd she do?" my friend asked as we watched a bit more footage of the sidewalk outside of the airport, closest to the baggage claim area. "Is she one of those 'Ma Barker' types? Did she raise her kids into a life of crime, or what?"

I shook my head as the recording clearly showed us that Edna Mazur had gotten into a cab and departed the airport just seconds before I came outside to look for her. "Nah, she's harmless," I replied and then added, "Well, to most people, anyway." I didn't add that her sudden appearance in Miami was going to be the cause of my death if I failed to get to her under control before she got to Ranger and Stephanie.

After we zoomed in on the cab's license plate, I contacted the cab company and discovered that it was currently headed to a location on Biscayne Boulevard. Damn! Edna Mazur was on her way to our Miami office building! After I thanked my old friend for his assistance, I promised to buy him a few rounds of drinks at one of our favorite bars - that is, if I lived through this ordeal. He just laughed and sent me on my way.

Miami certainly was warmer than New Jersey, but I knew that my profuse sweating had more to do with the prospect of Ranger killing me than with the nice weather. All the way into the city, I kept debating with myself as to whether or not I should contact my best friend and boss to let him know about the current situation, as well as my current location. Finally, I decided to try to talk to Stephanie's grandma first and then go on from there.

When I exited the cab, part of me was relieved to see Edna Mazur knocking on the glass doors of the RangeMan building. Another part of me was sort of ticked-off to see the little old lady standing alone outside of a top-notch security facility in a neighborhood that wasn't exactly known for its safety at night. Whoever was on front-desk duty tonight had better have a real good reason for not letting Stephanie's grandmother come inside our building and be safe.

"Mrs. Mazur!" I called out and she turned to face me. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm trying to get in _**there**_," she said and she pointed at a spot on the other side of the glass where a young RangeMan employee sat behind the big desk in the lobby. "But that nice-looking young man said that he can't let me in unless I have official business. Wouldn't _**you**_ think that getting in touch with Stephanie is a good enough reason to be considered official business?"

I decided to play along and find out what exactly was going on inside the crazy woman's gray-haired head. "Is that why you flew all the way down here, Mrs. Mazur? Wasn't your granddaughter answering her phone calls?"

"Oh, sure she was," she nodded. "But I had to make sure that Stephanie and Ranger really got hitched before they came back home. My daughter, Helen - Stephanie's mother - is hoping and praying that they won't be married and my son-in-law, Frank, is hoping and praying the opposite. He'd have come to Miami himself, but their differences of opinion were already causing too many arguments, so I offered to do it instead. Besides, it's nice and warm down here and I have friends I'm thinking of staying with for a while - maybe even until Thanksgiving."

I smiled at Edna Mazur then, because she'd just salvaged my day - or rather, my very existence. If she really had come down here on a mission to insure that Ranger and Stephanie actually got married before they returned to New Jersey, then perhaps we could work together to achieve the goal. It just so happened that I wanted the same thing for my best friend and the very special woman in his life.

"Come on, Mrs. Mazur," I said and I punched in my security access code on the keypad next to the front door of the RangeMan building. "I know exactly where Ranger and Stephanie are staying and I know they're safe and sound and together. I'll send them a message to let them know that you're here now, too, but let's figure out a place for you to stay tonight, alright?"

"You can do that?" she asked as we entered the building's foyer.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered. "In fact, you can stay in _**my **_apartment. I'll sleep in one of the offices."

"Oh, I don't want to be any bother--" she protested, but I cut her off - politely, of course.

"Please, Mrs. Mazur, I'll rest easier knowing that you're safe tonight." And I really meant that, too. With Stephanie's grandmother securely tucked away inside the apartment I maintained for my use whenever I was in town, she wouldn't be able to escape me again.

We walked over to the new RangeMan employee at the reception desk, who was now standing almost at the position of attention. I remembered interviewing Danny Cruz a few months earlier - he's a skilled MMA fighter - but just then, the guy looked slightly green, as though he was expecting me to give him a major butt-chewing. It was very tempting, but I just smiled and introduced my 'guest' to the nervous young man. Then I helped Mrs. Mazur sign-in on the visitor's logbook and we took the elevator to the fourth floor.

"This is a real nice place you got here," she said after I gave her a quick tour of my place. "Do all RangeMan employees get their own apartment?"

"No, ma'am, not all of them, but we try to take care of our people as best as we can," I replied. "I recently bought a small house up in Jersey and there's always an apartment for me to stay in whenever I travel to the other RangeMan locations."

Of course, that comment brought on a whole new set of protests as Mrs. Mazur voiced her concerns about being an inconvenience to me. I told her that I'd slept on sand and dirt plenty of times when I was in the Army and that sleeping on a couch in one of the offices on the fifth floor wasn't going to bother me at all. After she called her son-in-law and told him where she was, she asked if there was anything to eat in my kitchen. Thankfully, I had been able to contact Rosie earlier, so there were sandwiches and lots of other fresh food in the refrigerator.

After we ate our very late supper, I reassured Mrs. Mazur that I would be fine and I wrote down the phone extension number of the office where I'd be sleeping. I also told her that our housekeeper, Rosie, would call her in the morning to find out what she wanted for breakfast. Then I bid Stephanie's grandmother goodnight, locked her into my apartment and went up to the fifth floor.

The guys in the control room were laughing their asses off when they told me that Danny Cruz still seemed to be a bit shaken up by Mrs. Mazur's sudden appearance, as well as my arrival. They were practically rolling on the floor after I told them what had happened at the airport and why I was in Miami. As a goodwill gesture, I called down to the front desk and told the poor newbie not to stress out and that everything was fine. On the monitor it was easy to see that Danny was quite relieved not to be in any more trouble.

Finally, I went down the hall to Ranger's office and let myself in. There was only one sofa in the building was large enough for me to sleep on comfortably and it was in his office. Oddly enough, there was one of those plastic bags - like you get from a drycleaner's shop - lying across the back of the leather sofa. I removed the bag and hung it up on a hook that was on the back of the office door. Then I noticed that there was a note from Silvio attached to the bag, which read:

_~~"Hey Ranger - I know you're trying to be casual, but Juanita thought that Stephanie might like to borrow this for the ceremony. You can just leave it with Gonzo afterward and I'll get it later. Congratulations, Boss-man! See you next time, Silvio"~~_

It took me a moment to figure out what the gauzy white material was, but when I did, all I could do was shake my head. As soon as I collected my thoughts, I typed out an urgent, detailed message to explain the events of the past twelve hours and sent it to Ranger's BlackBerry. It didn't faze me when he answered fairly quickly; however, the directions in his message back to me were a complete surprise. As I fell into a deep sleep, I was grinning like an idiot. Tuesday was going to be a day to that _**none**_ of us would ever forget!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

My heart sank when I heard the distinctive chirp of my BlackBerry. Usually, an urgent message signified bad news and I wasn't in the mood to hear anything negative. Thankfully, though, Stephanie had just slipped out of bed to answer Nature's call, so I was able to read Tank's message without her knowledge. I'm sure that my old friend was shocked when I sent him a quick reply to say how happy I was to know that he and Stephanie's grandma had come to Miami. It then took every shred of self-control I possessed not to ruin the new surprise for my Babe, especially when she noticed the grin on my face.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Stephanie asked me as she slid under the covers and snuggled in next to me.

"I don't know what you you're talking about," I lied. "How am I smiling?"

"You look like the proverbial cat that ate the canary," she said. "Did I miss something while I was in the bathroom?"

I pulled her closer to me and kissed her forehead. "Can't I be happy about the fact that, by this time tomorrow, I'll be married to the woman I love?"

She giggled and the sounds of her happiness made my heart do a little flip. "I suppose so," she said, with a hint of skepticism in her voice. "But, Carlos, you don't just look happy - you look, um ... _**smug**_."

"Well, I guess that's because from now on," I said, rolling over and supporting myself above her silky pajama-clad body, "I get to show you off as being mine. _**All mine**_."

Then I kissed her soft lips and slid the strap of her pajama top over the smooth curve of her shoulder, hoping to get her mind off track. My tactics worked, as usual, and after we made love one more time, my beautiful Babe finally drifted off into a deep sleep. Unfortunately, it took me a much longer time to force my thoughts to quiet down.

Stephanie's earlier words about our courthouse wedding seeming to be like a business transaction had gotten to me. That's _**exactly **_what my marriage to Rachel had been - a business transaction to take care of Julie. I had never lived under the same roof with Rachel during the entire year that we were married to each other. For better or for worse, Stephanie had more experience with actual marriage issues than I did.

Of course, in my eyes and in my heart, I was already wedded to my Babe, but now that we were making it official in the eyes of the law, I suddenly realized I had no clue how to deal with a woman in my home or in my space on a day-to-day basis. I liked having rock-solid plans and firm ideas about the future, but I knew from the depths of my soul that I was about to embark on something that might just make my time in the Army seem quite tame in comparison. This was _**not **_a good situation for a control freak like me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Edna's POV**

I'd had the best night's sleep _**ever **_in the huge bed that belonged to Mr. Tank. What a nice man he is for letting me stay in his personal apartment! I can totally understand why Lula still loves the big and handsome teddy bear of a man. I'm so grateful he came along last night when I was trying to convince the night guardsman that I really needed for him to let me in to the RangeMan of Miami building. I wished I could have slept in, but I got up as soon as Nature called.

The sun was shining brightly through the windows of the apartment and I could tell that it was going to be a gorgeous day in Florida. When the telephone on the wall in the kitchen began ringing, I hesitated before I picked up the handset, but then I remembered that the housekeeper was supposed to call. A very nice-sounding woman named Rosie told me that she'd bring me anything I wanted for my breakfast. I made my requests and after I hung up, I wondered if she did this for all the RangeMan employees in the building. Then, I braced myself for the worst and called my daughter.

"Hello?" I said when I heard her voice on the other end of the line. "Helen, it's me - your mother."

"Mother!" Helen exclaimed, "Where are you? I've been so worried!"

I frowned and replied, "I'm in Miami, Florida. Didn't Frank tell you? I called him last night to let you know I got here safely."

There was a long pause and then she curtly said, "I'm not talking to that man right now. I can't believe he let you run off to Miami like this!"

"Helen, don't be ridiculous!" I said. "Frank didn't _**let **_me do anything. I would have made it down here one way or the other and he decided to help me. He's a good man after all."

"Hmph! First it was Stephanie and now it's you!" Helen groaned and complained. "I'm so embarrassed! Myra Hensley's mother doesn't go gallivanting all over the country on a whim. Dinah Merkowski's mother stays put, right here where she belongs - in the Burg - and _**her **_daughters all got married in the church. Noreen Havlechek's mother--"

"Oh, put a sock in it, Helen!" I finally said. "You know I stopped caring what other people think about me long ago. And you should stop, too. I want you to consider my absence as a gift - now you and Frank can have a little hanky-panky without me being there to get in the way. Heaven knows, you two really need to get some."

"Mother!" Helen sounded mortified.

"Look, Helen," I said. "I'm planning on staying down here in Florida for a little while. It's nice and sunny and warm. And I might even have a date with a widower friend-of-a-friend of mine."

"What do you mean, you might have a date?" Now she sounded alarmed.

I shifted my dentures around in my mouth before I answered her, especially because I knew she wasn't going to be happy with what I was about to tell her. I love Helen, but she sometimes forgets who's the mother and who's the daughter around here. I, however, know exactly who I am and what I want to do with the remaining years of my life. When Harry was alive, I was a good little wife and I did whatever _**he **_wanted me to do. But, dammit, I'm gonna have my own fun now!

"Remember Estelle Buczek?" I asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Well, I was at her funeral last week and by some great coincidence, her sister, Esther Nowicki, and Esther's husband, Milton, and their grandson, Bradley, were on the same airplane to Florida with me yesterday. They moved down to Coral Gables a while back and they've invited me to stay with them for a few days of fun in the sun. The grandson told me about their lonely neighbor and I thought I might just give him a try. You never know - it could be the start of something wonderful."

"Mother, behave!" She scolded me - as I knew she would do.

"Stop it, Helen!" I demanded. "We're all grown-ups here. Your father's been dead a long time and I'm free to do whatever I want. You've raised your family; both girls have both been married and divorced and now they'll both be married again. Quit acting like Valerie and Stephanie would crumble if you didn't help them out so much. You're free to do whatever you want to do, too, you know!"

"But, Mother, Valerie and Albert are barely scraping by," Helen whined. "And I just don't feel comfortable about Stephanie marrying this Ranger person. If only she'd reconsider getting back together with Jo--"

"Jeez, Louise!" I exclaimed in frustration. "So you didn't get to choose or approve of the girls' second husbands like you did with their first ones. So what? _**Those **_marriages didn't work out so well, anyway. Albert loves Valerie and he treats her like a queen. He'll do anything for her and you know it. So what if they're poor? They and all the girls are happy together and, trust me, that's all that matters in life. As for Ranger, well ... zowie! His package alone will make Stephanie's life worth living, if you know what I mean. And that man is built of solid rock; I know this because I've tried to squeeze his tushy several times and there isn't an ounce of fat on it."

"Mother, please stop this nonsense and come ho--" Helen began to plead with me, but I finally lost my patience and I interrupted her again.

"Oh, get over yourself, Helen!" I snapped. "You really should concentrate on your own marriage for a change." Then I softened my voice and said, "Be happy with Frank, dear; he's a good man. And don't worry about me and Stephanie, either. The weather's great down here, but I'm sure we'll all be home in time for Thanksgiving." And then I hung up.

The phone rang again as soon as I placed the handset back in its cradle and I almost didn't answer it. It was a good thing that I did, though, because it was Mr. Tank - who asked me to just call him Tank - and he was calling to tell me the plan for the day. He asked me a bunch of questions about Stephanie's preferences and I answered them to the best of my ability after I asked him to just call me Edna. Then Tank told me that he'd be down to escort me over to Miami Beach after I ate my breakfast. He made it sound as though we'd have to accomplish our many errands as quickly as possible.

By the time the housekeeper, Rosie, arrived with a tray containing the hot coffee, scrambled eggs and Entenmann's pastry I had requested, I was dressed in my favorite lavender skirt and top. It was a pleasure to meet such a nice hostess and she told me a lot about the building and the men who worked in it. She was disappointed to find out that I didn't know her good friend, Ella, who took care of Ranger and his men up in Trenton, but we both agreed that I should meet her when I returned to New Jersey.

Rosie asked me if I had any laundry and I told her about the mishap on the airplane with my poor neon green outfit. I had intended to soak it overnight in the bathroom sink, but I was so tired, I plum forgot. The housekeeper coaxed me into giving my soiled clothes to her and she vowed to do her best to remove the ugly red stains. Then she left me alone to finish my breakfast before Tank came down to get me. All I could think about was that if my granddaughter gets treated like this whenever she stays with Ranger, it's no wonder she likes to hide out at the RangeMan building in Trenton. I'd want to stay there, too!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

When I woke up, Ranger's arms were wrapped around me. All I could think of was that we were getting married - very soon - and I'd get to wake up like this all the time! The early morning light filtering in through the porthole windows of our cabin held the promise of a clear blue sky outside. This caused me to smile as I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the nice weather. Ranger felt me stirring next to him and he pulled me closer to his chest in a warm embrace. It made me feel so safe and secure and loved.

"Are you ready?" Ranger murmured into my hair.

"Yes," I replied, thinking that he was talking about our plans for the day.

He chuckled and slid his hands under my pajama top. "Good. So am I." And, boy-oh-boy, was he telling the truth!

I don't know why I bothered putting my pajamas back on when Ranger kept taking them off again. Perhaps it was because they were so comfy. Their silky softness had been a big surprise to me since I usually slept in old T-shirts and boxer shorts. I'd have to remember to thank Ella when we returned to Jersey.

When I woke up again, bright sunlight was streaming in the windows, signifying that it was quite a bit later in the morning. I sat bolt upright and gasped, "Omigod! What time is it? Are we late?"

Ranger, whose head was still resting on his pillow, smiled lazily up at me. Then he said, "Relax, Babe. We've got plenty of time. Our appointment at the courthouse isn't until ten-thirty. That gives us two whole hours to shower, eat breakfast and dress for the occasion."

As if on cue, my stomach growled and I launched myself out of the bed. It would have been poor form to complain about our wonderful, early-morning lovemaking, so I only glared briefly at Ranger before I closed and locked the bathroom door. Taking a solo shower was the only way I'd be able to finish as quickly as possible; I couldn't afford the luxury of having Ranger join me this time. I was going to need every available minute to make myself presentable for our wedding day, even if it was going to be rather casual.

After my shower, I pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and went in search of a quick breakfast. Ranger, who had taken his shower in one of the other bathrooms, was already seated at the dining table when I arrived on deck. Túlio fed us the usual - freshly ground and brewed coffee, bagels with cream cheese and lox, as well as slices of fresh pineapple and mango. The chef blushed when I thanked him profusely for his wonderful meals and he informed us that he wanted to serve _**true **_gourmet meals to us every day the next time we came to Miami.

Then we went back down to our cabin to get dressed for the main event. When I asked my groom what he'd be wearing for our wedding, he walked over to the closet and pulled an outfit out of a hanging garment bag. Now, I had seen Ranger dressed in everything from urban combat gear to an Armani tux, but I never would have imagined him wearing the clothes he was holding up. Although the style of the linen trousers and guayabera shirt didn't surprise me, the color of the ensemble certainly did.

"White?" My voice squeaked. "_**You're**_ wearing _**white**_?"

He grinned back at me and shrugged. "It's a traditional wedding outfit down here. I did some of my own shopping while you were out with Silvio's wife. What do you think of these?" When he held up a pair of white huarache sandal-shoes, I nearly fainted from disbelief.

"But ... but you _**always **_wear black." I protested weakly.

"Not always. And certainly not today," he said and he kissed the top of my head. "C'mon, Babe, don't act so surprised."

"But I _**am **_surprised!" Then I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best Jersey girl glare before declaring, "And I'm going to need a camera for this. _**Nobody's **_going to believe me when I tell them what you were wearing on our wedding day."

He just chuckled and proceeded to get dressed. All I could do was shake my head in amazement as I gathered my things and locked myself into the bathroom again. I gazed at my naked reflection in the mirror and assessed my own body with a critical, but honest eye. Thankfully, my bruised eye was barely noticeable anymore and the marks all along my side had faded significantly. Still, I didn't think I should wear the sexy, blue dress that I'd bought on my shopping trip with Juanita. It was a night-club sort of dress and it just wouldn't look right for a morning wedding.

Sighing, I decided that my outfit should match Ranger's today. So I put on the new, white denim mini-skirt I'd bought on Friday and I topped it with the cute white blouse Ella had packed for me. The fancy flip-flops she had packed actually looked nice, too, if a bit casual for the occasion. Fortunately, the jewelry I had purchased to go with the blue dress really stood out against the white fabric of my shirt and helped me feel a little classier. Then I remembered that I was in South Beach, not Trenton. My 'bridal ensemble' would never be acceptable for a wedding by Burg standards, but who cared about that? Certainly not me - not today, anyway.

After I fixed my hair, I startled myself when I glanced down at Abuela Blanca's ring on my finger. Suddenly, I realized that it was something that was very old. My skirt and blouse, as well as the fancy underwear I had on underneath, were all things that were new. The jewelry was both new and blue. The only thing I lacked was 'something borrowed' to complete my 'lucky' bridal outfit. I was still pondering where I'd get such a thing when Ranger knocked on the bathroom door.

"Babe, it's time to go."

My mouth went dry and I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. I applied another swipe of lipstick across my lips and dabbed at the corners to make them even. Miraculously, my hair was cooperating with me and the rest of my make-up looked good, too. Actually, I thought that everything about my appearance looked good. Ranger validated my opinion when I opened the door and his eyes darkened with desire.

'We'd better go," he said, his voice sounding husky. "Right now - before I decide to make us very, very late."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

Mine. All mine, all the time. Mine, mine, _**mine**_! It was practically all I could think of from the moment I saw Stephanie standing there in our cabin, dressed in white. It took a lot of willpower not to throw her back onto the bed and I'm pretty sure she knew it, too. I kept glancing at her as I drove the short distance from the marina to the courthouse. She kept smiling back at me and it made me feel invincible.

Tuesday morning wasn't a particularly busy time at the City of Miami Beach Police and Court Facility, so we were able to find a convenient spot in the parking garage. We walked out of the garage and down 12th Street and, scanning the area like I normally would, I discovered only one RangeMan vehicle parked on Washington Street nearby. I had to stifle a laugh when I realized that the SUV was located in front of a Starbucks coffee shop, as well as the World Erotic Art Museum. Leave it to Tank to park in front of the one place I'm certain Steph would _**not **_want her grandma to visit.

As we strolled through the Chief Rocky Pomerance Plaza, Stephanie admired and commented on the modern white building in front of us; it was quite different from the utilitarian Trenton Police Department building. I was slightly distracted, hoping that Tank had followed my instructions to the letter and hadn't 'improvised' or spread the word to Gonzo and the others. Too late, I realized that Stephanie had been watching me conduct my quick visual sweep of the area and now she also was on full alert.

"What's wrong?" Steph asked.

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head a little. "Just a habit. You know how it is."

She cut her eyes to me and asked slyly, "Are _**you **_nervous about this, Carlos?"

"Me? Nervous? Aww, hell no!" I shook my head at the completely absurd thought. "We're going to do this, Babe, and it's going to be good."

Stephanie halted in her tracks, pulling me to a stop with her. Neither of us said another word, but then a slow smile spread across her face and she allowed me to usher her inside the courthouse building. I knew she wasn't convinced about my not being nervous, so I kissed her - good and hard - right there in the building's foyer. A few people whistled and hooted as they passed by us, but I didn't care. The dazed expression on my Babe's face after I released her told me that I had chased away any lingering doubts.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Mañoso," said the receptionist when we signed in at the marriage license office. "I see that you and Miss Plum have also made some special requests. Your witnesses and the photographer are already in the wedding room with the Justice of the Peace, awaiting your arrival. If you'll just sign here and here, you can go right in." She slid the official papers across her desk toward us and we both signed them. Then she winked at me, and said, "Congratulations and best wishes to both of you."

It was difficult not to blow the surprise, but I figured I'd be okay as long as I didn't look directly at Stephanie. Grasping her hand, I opened the door to the wedding room and we walked in together. A short man in a light gray business suit - the Justice of the Peace - was waiting for us behind a wooden podium. Two people stood to either side of him, also waiting for us. Steph tensed and squeezed my hand harder than ever when she saw our witnesses.

"Omigod!" She exclaimed. "It's Grandma Mazur! And ... and _**Tank**_!" She threw herself into her grandmother's embrace and quickly hugged the big guy before he could protest. Then she turned to me and punched my shoulder - hard. "You jerk! You knew they would be here all along, didn't you? _**That's **_what you were so smug about last night!"

Shaking my head, I tried to defend myself. "When they came into town last night, it was a surprise to me, too." I was hoping that I'd managed to sound somewhat offended by her accusation, especially because her punch really did hurt. It would be interesting to spar against her after she'd had proper training.

"Oh, Stephanie, you look great! I wish your parents could see you now," Edna Mazur spoke up and put her arm around Steph's shoulder. "And don't be too hard on Ranger; he had no idea I was coming to Miami or that Tank here would follow me down."

"What? Why? How?" Stephanie was so flustered; she couldn't even form a complete sentence.

Mrs. Mazur rubbed Steph's back in that comforting way that grandma's sometimes do for their grandkids. Then she continued to explain, "You see, Stephanie, I had to make sure you got married to Ranger before you came home so that your mother would have to stop trying to figure out how to get you back together with Joseph Morelli. Your father and I both agreed that this was the best way and he helped me escape from Helen by telling her he was dropping me off at a viewing, but he really drove me to the airport, instead. I just spoke to your mother this morning and, well, she's still pretty mad at all of us. In fact, I'm not planning on going back to Trenton until Thanksgiving. Maybe she'll have cooled off by then."

Steph swore and then immediately clapped her hand over her mouth. She glanced sheepishly over at the Justice of the Peace and apologized for her language. He just chuckled and reassured her that he was a government official - not a priest - so her language didn't really bother him at all. Then he asked us if we'd like to begin the ceremony.

"Wait!" Tank said. "We have to make a few ... ah ... adjustments before we let these two tie the knot, so to speak."

Then my best friend - and now best man - presented us with the items I'd requested. First, there was the wedding veil that Silvio's wife thought Stephanie might want to borrow. Second, as I had requested, there was a small bouquet of white roses and lilies for my Babe. And surprisingly, there was a white rose boutonniere for me, too. It was then that I noticed that a professional-looking photographer was continuing to take lots of pictures of our wacky proceedings.

When Tank and Mrs. Mazur were finished with us, my Babe truly looked like a blushing bride, with the veil covering her face and the bouquet nestled in her hands. It felt strange having a rose pinned to my shirt, but it actually smelled nice against my chest. Funny, I never would have chosen something like this for myself and I was amazed at the many ways my long-time buddy had come through for me. The only problem was that I didn't know the half of it - yet.

The marriage ceremony was simple and quick. Stephanie and I exchanged the standard vows and we exchanged the rings which we had just purchased. Then we exchanged long, hungry kisses as soon as the Justice of the Peace proclaimed us to be husband and wife. We only stopped when Tank loudly cleared his throat. After that, everyone signed the rest of the paperwork and it was done. It was official; we were married!

Although Stephanie had decided to keep her maiden name for professional use, in reality, my Babe and I were now Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo Carlos Mañoso. I thought back to when I was a young Army officer and I was convinced that I'd never actually _**choose **_to get married - not after what I'd done to Rachel. And when I kept sending Steph back to Morelli, I didn't think she'd ever choose me over him, anyway. Now I was so happy, I felt stupid.

And I _**was**_ stupid. That's the only explanation I had for what happened next. I had allowed my overall happiness to cloud my vision and I wasn't fully aware of my immediate surroundings. Therefore, I was caught completely off-guard by the small crowd of well-wishers who had assembled on the steps of the police station to 'ambush' us on our way out of the courthouse.

The cheerful group of people was holding up a long white banner which read, "Congratulations to Ranger and Stephanie!" in fancy silver script. Papí held one end, with my cousins, Cat and Val and Val's partner Chano next to him. Gonzo and Silvio and their wives, as well as a few of my other Súarez relatives, held the middle of the banner. Rosie and Shelly and Captain Bob, Maria and Túlio were there, too. My daughter, Julie, was holding up the other end of the banner, and her parents, Rachel and Ron Martine, were standing next to her.

I was dumbfounded; I couldn't believe that Tank had done this to us. Don't get me wrong, I love the big guy like a brother, but at that very moment, I wanted to beat the crap out of him. Tank knew that I had planned to whisk Stephanie away to the suite I had reserved for us at The Tides hotel which was nearby, practically in walking distance from the courthouse. In fact, I knew that he knew that the only thing I wanted to do was to take my bride to bed.

Stephanie was in tears - probably both joyful and pitiful. I knew that she, too, had planned to do other things at this time. It was a beautiful day and my Babe truly wanted to lie on the beach before we returned to the crappy weather up north. I would have been very happy to accompany her after we'd consummated our marriage, of course, but now we'd have to smile and 'play nice' with all of our well-intentioned family and friends.

After they cheered, everyone converged on us and began to give us hugs and pats on the back. Val informed me and Stephanie that he and Cat, along with Túlio's gracious assistance and cooking, had put together a sort of wedding reception for us back at the club. The thought of having to endure this extended delay was almost unbearable. As I hugged my grandfather, I made eye contact with my old friend. Tank merely smiled and shrugged. He already knew we'd have a 'date' on the mats when we got back to Jersey.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't see clearly through all the tears in my eyes. First of all, there had been the shock of seeing Grandma Mazur and Tank standing in the courthouse wedding room, waiting for us when we arrived there. They had flowers and other things with them to make the occasion even more special than it already was. Incredibly, Ranger had kept this development from me all night and all morning long. I wanted to stay angry at him, but I was just too happy. I'd have to deal with his continued sneakiness later.

I had wished for flowers, but I hadn't shopped for them, so it was very nice to have a bridal bouquet and I loved the lilies and white roses. Tank and Grandma had even brought a little boutonniere for Ranger, too. It was funny to watch the men fumble around with the tiny rose. Tank must have stabbed himself with the long, pearl-tipped pin at least ten times. I was afraid that he'd bleed on Ranger's nice, white shirt. Grandma finally took pity on them and secured the boutonniere like a pro. Everything looked so wonderful; it all brought tears to my eyes.

Then, I almost completely lost my composure when Tank gently handed Juanita's wedding veil to me and I read the note which accompanied it. Here was my 'something borrowed' and it was gorgeous! My hands were trembling so much that Grandma had to position the comb attachment into my hair. It felt silly to wear the short part of the veil over my face, but she insisted that I allow Ranger the opportunity to uncover his bride for the traditional kiss at the end of the ceremony. I was glad I let her have her way, though, because the feeling I got when Ranger lifted the gauzy material, gazed into my eyes and kissed me was incredibly intimate and special.

I could have stayed in Ranger's strong embrace and kissed him all day long. He had reserved a room for us in a nearby hotel, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold off boffing him until we checked in. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought about searching for an empty office. And even though the Mercedes was parked in a public garage, I was certain that the Man of Mystery would be able to figure out a way to get us some privacy - real soon.

Tank finally cleared his throat to get our attention. Then he and Grandma hugged us and congratulated us and informed us that it was time to move along. We still had to finish signing all the official documents, so Ranger and I reluctantly let go of each other and did what we needed to do. Then the receptionist made several copies for us, which Ranger tucked into the manila folder. We all rode the elevator down to the ground floor of the building.

I thought it was rather odd that the photographer was still with us. Surely, he would need to stick around and wait for the next couple who might want his services. It never crossed my mind that the shutterbug was actually only there for me and Ranger - to record our special day. Once we stepped out of the courthouse and back into the bright Florida sunshine, it became quite clear to me why he had followed our little wedding party outside.

Only the shocked expression on Ranger's face kept him out of trouble with me. It was obvious that he had nothing to do with gathering the small crowd of friends and relatives who were waiting on the steps outside of the building. Speaking of the building, I must say that Joe and his fellow cops would be completely green with envy if they ever came down here and saw the beautiful architecture and gleaming white walls of the Miami Beach Police Station.

Anyway, I couldn't stop the flow of tears when I heard everyone cheering for us and yelling their congratulations. It seemed as though all the people I had met in Florida so far - people I had begun to care about deeply - were standing right there, behind a big banner. Papí was holding up one end of the long strip of white vinyl cloth and Julie was holding up the other end. I just wanted to hug each and every person who had taken time out of their busy schedules that day to celebrate with me and Ranger.

By the time we'd been escorted to Caliente!, where Val and Cat and Tulio had set up a fantastic spread of sliced fruits and vegetables, gourmet hors d' oeuvres and cold drinks for everyone, I had given up my dream of having wild, just-married sex with Ranger and then working on my tan for the rest of the day. Clearly, this was our wedding reception and it would be rude for us not to stay and celebrate with our family and friends.

After we cut the modest-sized wedding cake - white, of course, with raspberry filling and decadent butter cream frosting - Ranger surprised everyone by eating his entire slice of the sweet 'forbidden' food. Then we sipped champagne and posed for the photographer. Val came over to us and asked if it would be alright for him to turn up the music's volume so that everyone could dance. I thought I heard Ranger groan and I felt the same frustration. That cake only lessened my libido a tiny bit. We definitely appreciated the wonderful party, but enough was enough. Cat sauntered over and shook her head at Val.

"Dearest cousin," she pulled on Val's collar and began to lead him toward the club's stage. "It's time for us to bid farewell to the happy bride and groom. Can't you see that they're practically _**dying **_to get out of here?"

"Yes, but--" Val tried to protest and Cat cut him off.

"Make the final toast now," she said in a warning tone of voice. "Or better yet, have Papí make it, so that these two can go have some married fun. We've held them up long enough."

I smiled gratefully at Cat and thanked her.

She smiled back at me and said with a wink, "Hey, I remember that the best part of my two marriages was the wedding night. I'm sure that you two will have a great time, as always, but it's long past the hour to let you go on your merry way. Val just doesn't have a frame of reference for this. Now, let's wrap up this shin-dig and get going!" And we followed her to the edge of the stage.

After Papí gave us his tearful, heart-warming blessings in the form of a toast, and we said our farewells to everyone, Ranger and I finally sped off toward The Tides hotel and checked in. It was the middle of the afternoon, so there was still some hope that I might be able to catch some rays of low-angle sunlight out on the beach. Our first stop, though, was a short and steamy shower, followed by a much longer and more satisfying love-making session on the luxurious king-sized bed in our fabulous hotel room. It was only later, when I was putting on my bikini and cover-up, that I was able to fully appreciate the view of the beach from our location.

Ranger accompanied me to the beach at Lummus Park. I decided that I preferred the beaches on Key Biscayne much better than this stretch of soft sand and I told him so. Even this late in the afternoon, the place was very busy and crowded with all sorts of people. We quickly found a suitable spot to spread out our towels and I tried not to get too turned on while Ranger rubbed sunscreen all over my body. After about two hours, though, my stomach growled, so we headed back to the hotel.

Room service was nice and quick, which was good, because I inhaled my supper and then I jumped Ranger again. Even though we were married now, I just couldn't seem to get enough of him. Strangely, though, it seemed as though he never let me initiate the sex. Whenever I reached for him, he'd catch my hand and maneuver us into a position where he definitely was in control of the situation. Nevertheless, I fell asleep for the night all wrapped up in my new husband's arms, looking forward to what I had planned for the morning.

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**A/N: Once again, I am terribly behind on answering your many encouraging reviews and I hope to catch up with responding to them very soon. Now that our heroes are married, we'll have to see what happens on the day after - and when they return to Trenton. Please check out the web links I've placed on my profile page. I put together an album of photos and a slideshow to 'illustrate' this story. I truly look forward to hearing what you thought of this chapter as well as the photos. Thanks! :D**


	23. Chapter 23

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination. Alas, there is no money for me in all of this!**

**A/N: I know it's been a very long time since I last updated and I do apologize for the wait. Although I had a wonderful spring break with my family, it took a while for us to get back into our normal routines of school, work, scouts, household chores, etc. Sadly, when I returned home, my muse stayed on vacation and I've had difficulty writing since then. It's also allergy season where I live and my whole family has been sick for the past week and a half. Honestly, I've felt too blah to do much of anything. Thanks again, though, for all the nice reviews and PMs! Your encouraging words have inspired me to keep chipping away at the seemingly solid wall of my writer's block. Anyway, I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I can't stand to rewrite anymore, so here it is. Once again, there are multiple POVs. Enjoy! :D**

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... I dialed Ranger on my cell phone.

_"Yo," Ranger said. "Is there a problem?"_

_"I don't like any of these sandwiches."_

_There was a moment of dead phone time before Ranger answered. "Go upstairs to my apartment. I think there's some peanut butter left from the last time you stayed there."_

_"Where are you?"_

_"I'm with an account. I'm inspecting a new system."_

_"Are you coming home for lunch?"_

_"No," Ranger said. "I won't be back until three. Are you still off sugar?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Maybe I can get back sooner."_

_"No rush," I said. "I'm happy with peanut butter."_

_"I'm counting on that being a lie," Ranger said._

_Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 23: Presenting … Mr. and Mrs. Ranger

**Ranger's POV**

I am a lucky man. I've survived some of the most harrowing experiences in which a man can be entangled. I should be dead, but I'm not. Today, I feel more alive than ever before. You see, I finally was able to marry the woman to whom I've been addicted since we first met. I had been biding my time and waiting for the right moment to make her mine for a very long time. And it feels as though I've loved Stephanie Plum, well, for an even longer amount of time.

Admittedly, my heart knew she was 'the one' for me long before my brain got with the program. And it felt so good to be wrapped around Stephanie - my _**wife**_ - in our hotel room's comfortable bed that I didn't want to leave her warm, luscious body alone unless absolutely necessary. Now that we were legally wedded, I could just stay in bed and make love to her all day long if I wanted to – and part of me really wanted to begin doing that right now.

The morning sun hadn't yet appeared over the ocean's horizon when I woke up. Even though the previous night – our wedding night - had been one of the best times of my life, my body was practically humming with pent-up energy. In fact, I could go for a little early-morning nookie before my run and still have enough energy left over for at least a five-mile jog. Sadly, the sound of my Babe's deep and steady breaths told me that she was nowhere close to waking up.

Seriously, though, I knew I had to get out of the bed very soon or I'd succumb to my other urges. I groaned inwardly as I remembered the piece of cake I'd eaten the previous day during the surprise wedding party my family and friends threw for me and Stephanie. If my mother's father, Papí Súarez, hadn't insisted on making my beautiful bride and I pose for a few photos, that sinfully delicious chunk of processed flour, sugar and fat never would have passed through my lips. Nevertheless, I know I worked off a few of those extra calories after Steph and I finally escaped to our hotel room.

I really hadn't done a decent physical workout in several days. And it's a good thing that I've settled my 'addiction' to being with Stephanie by marrying her, because I wanted her – all the time now. I supposed I could have burned off some more calories in a very enjoyable way if Steph was up for another round of vigorous sex; however, at this early hour of the morning, I was far more likely to get in a good, long run on the beach. At least I knew she'd still be here when I returned.

"Stephanie," I nuzzled her neck and murmured into her wild hair. "Babe, wake up. It's time to run."

Steph only shifted slightly in my arms and mumbled something incoherent. I wasn't really expecting her to jump out of bed and join me, but I needed to let her know what I was doing. I didn't want my Babe to wake up later and think that I had abandoned her. Besides, my mischievous side wanted to see how she would react to my invitation for an early morning jog. Of course, I should have known better.

"C'mon, Babe. Let's go," I coaxed and nudged her until she was slightly awake. It wasn't easy to stifle my laughing as I declared, "It's time for our first morning run together as Mr. and Mrs. Mañoso."

Not surprisingly, she reacted to my declaration with considerable hostility. "Don't you mean '_**Mr. and Mrs. Morales**_'? I thought that's who we're supposed to be today."

I chuckled at her smartass comment. My Babe could be very funny when she was cranky. Still, I could help but to goad her a little more - just to see how far I could push things.

"That's right," I agreed. "Today we are Rico and Michelle Morales, champion triathletes. So, let's get up and at 'em, champ! First we'll do a little run, then we'll swim in the ocean for a while and, lucky us, the hotel has stationary bikes down in the workout room. C'mon, _**Michelle**_." And I pulled back the sheets to uncover her beautiful, pink pajama-covered body.

"No! It's still dark outside," Steph whined groggily as she tugged at the sheets until she was under the covers again. "I'll be 'Michelle' when the sun comes up."

"Hey! You how it is, Babe; we triathletes have to train hard if we're going to stay in top condition." I said too cheerfully.

"I'm _**not**_ going running and you can't make me," she sleepily grumbled. "Michelle Morales might be a tri-whatever, but _**Stephanie Plum **_isn't. Don't forget, _**Carlos**_ ... you married Stephanie ... and this ... is no way ... to treat ... new wife." Then she snuggled into her pillow and drifted back into the land of dreams once more.

Biting my tongue to keep from laughing aloud, I extracted myself from the bed and began my morning routine. After I washed up, I pulled on running shorts and a T-shirt. Autumn had already put a chill in the weather back in New Jersey, so I knew this was my last opportunity for a while to enjoy a long run on the warm Florida beach. After I laced up my running shoes, I kissed my sleeping wife on her forehead and headed out the door.

Before I closed the door, I took a moment to gaze at Stephanie. She hadn't moved a muscle when I kissed her, and it was then that I realized our married life would require a lot of adjustments for both of us. Exercise was only one of many issues. It was going to be an uphill battle getting Steph into proper 'fighting' shape, as well as teaching her how to speak quite a bit more Spanish, but it would be worth the challenge. I really wanted her to be able to accompany me on some of my upcoming out-of-town missions. For now, though, I'd let her sleep in. Besides, with the night I had planned for us once we got back to Trenton, I knew my Babe was going to need _**all**_ the rest she could get.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

You know the old saying, "Today is the first day of the rest of your life"?

This much-used and abused little statement used to seem fairly harmless to me, but not anymore. If you're looking forward to bright and shiny new adventures, the rest of your life can be an exciting prospect. However, if you're trying to face up to unpleasant things, the outlook might not be as exciting. Today, the first day of the rest of my life as Ranger's lawfully-wedded wife, I caught a glimpse of one of the not-so-bright-and-shiny adventures. And if my new husband thought he was going to coax me into running with him at the crack of dawn, he was sadly mistaken.

Admittedly, part of me was still a little freaked out over the fact that I had just gotten married for the second time in my life. Only the beautiful, sparkly rings on my left hand confirmed for me that the previous day had not been a mere dream. I mean, let's be honest. I had become quite proficient at avoiding this type of serious commitment to Joe Morelli for a very long time.

Of course, a different part of me was singing the 'Hallelujah Chorus' because I'd finally given myself to Ricardo Carlos Mañoso - a.k.a. Ranger, Batman, the Man of Mystery and the Wizard – and I now possessed a permanent ticket to _**wow**_. I guess I'd always been a bit hormonal about Ranger and I'd always wanted more of him after that first time so long ago. Now that I'd had him – over and over again – I discovered that I wanted him even more than ever. I'd even consumed _**two**_ pieces of cake at the wonderful little party after our wedding and I still couldn't get enough of Ranger on our wedding night. It was good thing that the Wizard always seemed to be ready, willing and able to rise to the occasion.

Seriously, though, I couldn't believe that my new husband actually tried to wake me up so early on our last morning to sleep in and enjoy this super-short honeymoon. It was totally something that Ranger - or even Batman - would do, but not the man, Carlos, who loved me. I'd had every intention of giving Carlos the Wizard the same kind of 'wake-up call' that he'd given me a few days earlier, but then there was the whole 'alias' thing. Now that he was acting as 'Rico' the annoying super athlete, I was in no mood to do such a thing. My surprise would just have to wait until we were back in Trenton and back to being our regular selves.

In all fairness, it's not as though I didn't already know how much Ranger really liked to exercise. I only hoped he didn't expect me to join him on his early morning fitness quests now that I was his wife. He had hinted at the need for me to get in better shape if I wanted to be able to go on more missions with him and I sensed that we definitely would need to work on some sort of compromise. Still, there was _**no**_ _**way**_ I'd be getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise - not even for the man I loved.

The next time I woke up, it was almost seven o'clock and the sun was shining brightly. After answering Nature's call, I tiptoed over to the large window, peaked through the room-darkening curtains and gasped in delight. The sun had come up over the edge of the horizon and the Atlantic Ocean looked incredibly beautiful. Of course, I had watched the sunrise at Point Pleasant plenty of times, but the brilliant blue-green water lapping along the white sand beaches of the Florida coastline made the arrival of the sun seem much more dramatic.

Ranger hadn't returned yet, so I hopped back into the comfy bed and tried to get comfortable again. It still was much too early to get up; however, after ten minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up on trying to go back to sleep. My mind kept thinking of all the things I hadn't allowed myself to think about after I agreed to marry Ranger. Things such as ... what was I going to do about my apartment? About my parents and friends? About _**Joe**_?

I felt a sharp pain in my chest when I thought about how my actions must have hurt Joe Morelli. The poor guy had broken up with me barely a week ago! And now I would be returning from a long weekend in Florida, _**married **_to Ranger - a man Joe barely tolerated. In fact, Joe had distrusted Ranger's intentions toward me from the very beginning, so I guess we proved that he'd been right all along. I wondered if I would suddenly start to receive lots of parking tickets or be targeted for any number of misdemeanors and petty traffic violations

Honestly, if the situation was reversed and Joe had suddenly eloped with one of his old girlfriends - someone like Terry Gilman, for instance - I'd be livid. There wouldn't be a safe haven for Joe anywhere, because I would be aiming at him with the front fender of whatever car I happened to be driving. Although Joe had never seemed to be the vindictive type, I wouldn't be surprised if I received a very chilly reception at the police station the next time I brought in a skip for Vinnie. Groaning at that thought, I threw off the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed.

My parents were another story. Despite everything my grandma had told me about my dad supporting this marriage, I knew there would be trouble when Ranger and I came face-to-face with Mom. Probably, I'd never taste my mother's pineapple upside-down cake - or any other dessert from her kitchen - ever again. Yes, it was comforting to know that Saint Ella was able to make any sort of food that I wanted, including desserts. It just wouldn't be the same as Mom's.

Hopefully, my friends would forgive me quickly. I figured that if I promised to tell Mary Lou and Lula and Connie every little detail of every little thing that had happened to me since I'd left Trenton, they would be overjoyed and accept me back with open arms. Unfortunately, thinking about how long it was going to take for me to explain it all to them made my head hurt. Perhaps it might be best if I just stayed hidden within the Haywood building until everyone adjusted to the idea of me being married to Ranger.

Then there was the issue of my apartment. I figured that Ranger would want me to move all of my stuff into his apartment ASAP, but there were still six months remaining on my current lease agreement. Even though my landlord was the most understanding man in the world, I hated to stiff him out of his money. Now that my bank account would be healthy from earning all those rewards, maybe I'd just pay off the remainder of my lease and then use the place as my own private sanctuary if I ever needed a break from Ranger.

"Stephanie, Stephanie, Stephanie," I said to myself as I padded into the bathroom, "the days of running away and hiding from Ranger are over. Now that you're married to the Man of Mystery, you'll just have to stay and work things out like a grown-up."

While I was brushing my teeth, I decided that it would be a good idea to ask Grandma Mazur if she would like to live in my apartment for a while. She wouldn't have to worry about paying the rent because I already planned to take care of that pesky little detail. This way, she'd have a place to stay in case my mother decided to hold a grudge against her for being so supportive of my elopement. And, best of all, my grandma definitely would fit in really well with most of the other residents who lived in the apartment building. At least _**that **_idea filled me with hope.

I had just finished rinsing out my mouth when I heard the door lock tumble. Slowly and carefully, I peeked out of the bathroom to make sure it was Ranger and there he was, in all his sweaty perfection. He had taken his shirt off and it was draped around his neck like a wet towel. His dark hair was spiky with moisture and his mocha latte skin glistened as though he has just come out of the swimming pool. He looked _**hot **_- in more ways than one - and all I wanted to do at that moment was to drag him into the shower and have my way with him again.

Ranger's eyes darkened in response to my appreciative gaze and he gave me a 200-watt smile. Then he crossed over to me in a few strides, hugged me to his glistening chest and kissed me senseless. Okay, now here's the reality of such a situation: gazing at a sweaty, half-naked Cuban sex god is one thing. It's an entirely different thing when the sex god wraps his sweaty body around you and the silky pajamas you're wearing get drenched, too.

"Eww! Gross!" I said when I finally realized that the front of my pajamas felt damp - and _**not**_ in a good way. I pulled away from Ranger and looked down at myself, quickly assessing the damage. Wherever his body had touched mine, the sweat-soaked and translucent material now clung to my skin. This only made him more amorous and he made a move to embrace me again. I stopped him with the palms of my hands.

"Oh, no you don't!" I said, bracing my hands against his tight, washboard abs. "You ... you slimed me with your sweat, Carlos. Yuck!"

"Sorry, Babe," Ranger apologized, but he didn't sound very sincere about it. Then he smiled at me again and said, "I really like these pajamas, too, but if they're ruined forever, I'll buy you some new ones. Here, let me help you take them off and we'll have a nice, long shower. I wouldn't want you to walk around here all _**slimy**_."

Then he leaned over my hands and claimed my mouth again. Figuring that I'd already lost this battle; I surrendered to Ranger's salty lips and helped him peel off my wet top. His mouth never left mine as he maneuvered us into the bathtub and turned on the shower spray. I was already standing under the water before I realized that I still was wearing my pajama bottoms. It really didn't matter, though, because Ranger swiftly removed those, too. In a flash, I was back in the land of 'Wow!' and I had to smile, because I knew that my 'ticket' never would expire.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

Taking a shower with Stephanie had quickly become one of my favorite things to do together with her. I know she enjoyed it, too. It was a shame that I had ruined her cute little pink pajamas, but I knew that she wouldn't stay mad at me for drenching her with my sweat. I think it really helped, though, when I told Steph I was certain that Ella could pull up the online invoice and order a replacement set of pajamas for her as soon we returned to Trenton.

We went out onto the terrace of our hotel room to enjoy our breakfast of spinach and cheese omelets, sliced fresh fruit, and coffee. When I asked Stephanie what she wanted to do with the rest of our morning, she surprised me when she said she wanted to sun herself by the pool instead of going the back to the beach. Declaring that she didn't want to get sandy again before we boarded the airplane, she gathered up her things and packed her pool bag while I put on my swim trunks. I reminded Steph that we would have enough time to take another shower, but she had already made up her mind to enjoy the hospitality of the hotel's poolside bar.

The only thing that marred our morning was that Steph insisted on checking her phone messages while we sat in the lounge chairs next to the pool. I could tell that she was upset by what she heard and I was sorely tempted to grab her cell phone and toss it into the water. Instead, I rubbed her shoulders and squeezed her hand to let her know that she had my support, no matter what.

"Are you okay?" I asked Steph after she shut off her phone and slid it back into her pool bag.

"Yeah," she answered hesitantly, "But it might take a while for everybody back home to calm down."

"Do you care?"

"Carlos! I mean, Rico!" she exclaimed and then quickly corrected herself. "Of course I care! It's just that, well, the only person who left me a message and _**wasn't **_upset was my Grandma Maz--, um, my grandma." Obviously, she was self-conscious about trying to stay in character.

I covered her hand with mine and said softly, "Relax, Babe. Yes, we're assuming different identities for today, but you really don't need to worry about that unless someone else is right next to us. The good thing about being here by the pool this morning is that the only other people are all the way on the other side and they're not paying much attention to us."

"Okay," Stephanie nodded. Then, looking somewhat relieved, she took a deep breath and continued. "Well, Grandma Mazur sounded positively giddy in her message because she met Mr. Zelnich - that friend of her old friends, the Nowickis – last night. She even claims that the man is almost as hot as you and your grandfather. _**And**_ – get this - Grandma's already called my parents and told them that she plans on staying in Florida for another week or two so that she can become better-acquainted with this Mr. Zelnich. I just can't imagine it!"

Neither could I. The thought of Edna Mazur and some old coot cozying up to each other made me grimace and I had to shake my head to get rid of the horrifying images in my mind. But then I had a good thought: perhaps Steph's grandma would become so involved in her own affairs that she'd leave my Babe and me alone. Stephanie grinned at me as though she had been reading my mind.

"I was thinking of an idea," she said.

"Yeah, I can see the smoke now," I quipped.

She glared at me and then quickly continued speaking, "What if I let my grandma stay in my old apartment? You said that all the reward money for capturing Cantrell is already in my bank account and that the money for Galarza's capture should be in my bank account by the end of the week, so I'll definitely be able to afford paying off the rest of my time on the current lease."

"What about all your stuff?" I asked.

"Well, Rex is at my parents' house right now, along with most of my clothes. I won't need the furniture anymore and we can move the rest my stuff out of there as soon as Dillon finishes repairing the damage from last week's firebombing. Honestly, it's not much."

"Babe." We both knew that she had a lot more junk than she thought she had.

She ignored my unspoken comment. "When Grandma returns from visiting her friends, she'll have her own place to stay. And if we keep going after high-dollar captures, I should be able to arrange for her to live there for as long as she wants."

"I like it," I said, nodding my encouragement.

"I thought you might," Steph said. Then she smiled at me and added, "Oh, and Grandma asked me to ask you to thank Tank again for driving her out to Coral Gables after the party yesterday. She also reminded me to tell you that she promises to keep her hands to herself whenever she's near you. That's her _**personal**_ wedding gift to you, especially since we're married now and you're officially a member of the family."

"I'll have to send her an extra-special 'thank you' card," I remarked drily. Then I ducked my head when Steph threw one of her flip-flops at me. It sailed over me and landed in the pool with a little splash. "I'm not going in after it," I told her. "You'll have to get it yourself."

Scowling, she sat up and taunted me with, "Where's 'Mister Rico Triathlon' now, huh? Are you afraid to get your Speedos wet? Or are you scared that a little water might mess up your perfect, manly-man hair style?"

Before Stephanie could open her mouth again, I quickly scooped her up and tossed her into the pool. She came up sputtering and cursing and I shrugged apologetically at the older couple who was sunning themselves across the pool from us. Then I jumped into the cool water, landing on my feet next to Steph. Of course, she was furious and she began to splash a tidal wave of water at me, but I finally pinned her arms to her sides with my embrace and kissed her until she relaxed a little.

"You ... you ... jerk!" she stammered when I finally released her. "What did you do that for?"

"These are board shorts – not Speedos," I said. "Besides, it looked like you were getting too hot and bothered. I just thought I'd help you cool down a bit before your skin turned red. Remember? I have a vested interest in protecting your lovely skin."

"Hmph!" she scoffed. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

I shrugged. "It was time for you to turn over anyway. Be nice and I'll massage extra sunscreen onto your tender backside."

Steph narrowed her eyes at me and I was tempted to swim away so that she couldn't dunk me - which, by the look on her face, I knew she really wanted to do. To reestablish the peace between us, I let her dunk me anyway. When I popped back up to the surface I swam away from her and began to do some easy laps across the length of the pool.

I thought the water felt great, but Steph obviously didn't share my opinion. She was there to work on her tan – not to swim laps. After she retrieved her shoe, she splashed water at me one more time and then she climbed out of the pool as fast as she could manage. It only took her a few moments to resettle onto her lounge chair and enjoy the sun's rays again.

After a while, I came out of the water and toweled off. Keeping my voice casual, I asked Stephanie, "Are you planning to return any of those phone messages before we fly back home?"

She didn't open her eyes when she replied, "Nope! Not until we're back in New Jersey." Then she turned over on to her stomach, deftly untied her bikini's halter top and handed the bottle of sunscreen to me. "I just want to relax and enjoy this little slice of paradise while I can."

My body reacted with a jolt as I gazed down at my Babe's mostly bare backside. Forcing myself to stay focused on my immediate task, I squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and said, "Proud of you, Babe." And I truly meant it.

I knew it took a lot of willpower for Stephanie Plum not to call anyone back home - especially her mother - and defend her actions. Unlike Steph's family, no one in my family ever criticized my decisions anymore; at least, not to my face. It would take even more strength for my Babe to stand up for herself once we returned to New Jersey, but I sensed that she was mentally preparing herself up for the days ahead.

"Mmm … that feels _**so**_ good," she murmured as I massaged a generous amount of the coconut-scented sunscreen lotion all over the exposed skin of her fantastic backside. After a few more minutes of this treatment, I thought I might be able to convince her to return to our room a little earlier than planned, but that didn't happen. Despite my efforts, I could see that Steph was chewing on her lower lip, which told me that something else really was bothering her.

"Are you going to tell me what's causing you to gnaw a hole through your lips or am I going to have to guess?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, slowly exhaled and then said, "I ... I'm worried about Joe."

"Oh? What kind of message did _**he**_ leave for you?" I asked, trying to sound casual, even though my heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a vise. Like it or not, my Babe still had a soft spot for her old flame and guess it was unreasonable for me to think she'd completely forget about him anytime soon. It didn't seem to matter that I'd finally won the prize and married Stephanie; I knew that Morelli would continue to be a shadow in our lives until his own 'someday' arrived.

"He sounded angry. Maybe a little sad, too," she said. "I think he had been drinking, but ... but I guess I can't blame him. I mean, by now, the whole Burg knows that you and I have eloped and it sort of makes Morelli look like a big chump."

"Babe."

"I'm very serious! Joe actually sounded depressed," Steph said. "That's not like him. That's why I'm worried."

"Don't be," I gently told her. "He's a grown man; he'll get over it - eventually."

"He's still my friend," she said sadly. "And he's still a cop in the police department with which we have to do a lot of business. I can't avoid him forever."

"I know, Babe, I know," I sighed and placed the bottle of sunscreen back into Steph's bag. Then I stretched out on my lounge chair and continued to speak, "Would it make you feel any better to know that I've been studying Morelli for a long time? And … I'm pretty sure I have a solution."

Steph opened her eyes and glanced over at me. "A solution for what?"

I sighed again. "This sick little triangle of ours, Steph. Even though we're married now, Joe's still in the picture with you and me and I swear I'm going to break us up for good this time."

"I don't understand."

"C'mon, Stephanie, don't be naïve," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "I'm certain that there were more than a few folks in the Burg who were _**not **_surprised that you married me after Morelli dumped you. Your father and your grandmother are just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Once you start asking around, you'll realize that a lot of people knew about our ... mutual attraction. Think about it – you've been working for me and staying at my apartment for a while now."

"Oh," she said weakly as she processed this information. "But we both know that we hadn't slept together since … since that one time. Maybe if we explain--"

"Babe." I said and I shook my head.

Even Steph knew that it was appearances that counted with people. After this elopement, we both understood that we'd never be able to convince the majority of our friends and family that we hadn't been boinking each other's brains out until this past weekend. It didn't matter what we said, Joe would think that I had poached – which was true – and that Stephanie had cheated – which, technically, was false.

"Okay, then, what's this solution you say you have?" she asked.

Cutting my eyes toward her, I said, "You know my man, Cal?"

"He's got the snake tattoo on his forehead, right?"

"Yes, him," I nodded. "His cousin, Linda, teaches third grade over at a school in Hamilton Township."

"What's that got to do with Joe?"

"Linda Hansen is the exact opposite of her cousin, Cal," I waited a beat before I continued to explain. "She's a petite, soft-spoken, blue-eyed blonde. She's also half-Italian on her mother's side of the family and she isn't related to either you or Morelli - I checked. Plus, there's somewhat of a resemblance to Terry Gilman, except that Linda is a _**nice **_Catholic girl and she has _**no**_ connections to the Mafia whatsoever."

"Uh-oh," Steph said warily. "I don't think I'm gonna like the direction this conversation is headed."

I forged onward. "Best of all, Linda is single, never been married. In fact, Cal told me that she recently broke up with her boyfriend of five years because the idiot said he needed to 'find himself' - whatever that means. I'm pretty sure Morelli is a man who knows who he is and what he wants out of life."

Stephanie blinked. If her bikini top hadn't been untied, I think she would have sat bolt upright. Still, she had a look of disbelief on her face as she said, "Carlos, please don't tell me that you ... that you're actually planning to play _**matchmaker**_ for Joe Morelli and Cal's cousin, Linda?"

I shrugged and said, "Okay. I won't tell you." Then I grabbed her hand when she tried to slap the side of my chest. "Hey! No hitting! I just thought you'd like to know that I've been working on this … problem for a while."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, Babe. You and me, we're partners now," I replied and then I intertwined my fingers with hers. "I want you to know all the things I'm doing to make our lives better. All of us have to make adjustments to this new way of life and Steph, I just want Morelli to move on - quickly. You two have way too much history together for us to wait until things smooth out on their own. I don't want to leave _**anything **_to chance, especially with regard to Morelli."

Her blue eyes got wide and she gasped. "But ... but Carlos, I married _**you**_. I would _**never**_--"

"I know, Babe, I know," I said to reassure her again. "However, I predict that he and Linda could make each other _**very**_ happy. And the way I see it – as soon as Morelli gets his own little 'happily ever after' there in the Burg, he won't be a threat to me, or to us, ever again."

"Joe was never a threat to _**you**_, Carlos," she said slowly. "_**You**_ were always a threat to _**him**_."

"Babe."

"It's true. And you know it, too."

Okay, so maybe I did know that little fact, and it was nice to hear her say it that way, but I decided I was tired of talking about Morelli now. We only had another hour or so to enjoy the Miami heat and then we'd have to go back upstairs to our hotel room, get cleaned up and finish packing before we headed to the airport to catch our flight home. I gently reminded Steph of these things and she let go of the conversation, too. We spent the next hour lying quietly in the sun with our fingers occasionally touching and the time passed by faster than either of us wanted it to do.

Steph and I were still lying by the pool when Tank sent me a text message to let me know that he had arrived home safely. He had gone to the airport to catch the first flight of the day at about the same time I had gone out for my morning run and he was already on his way from Philly back to Trenton. Tank's message also said that he planned to return to the airport to pick us up when we arrived there in the late afternoon.

I felt sort of bad about not telling my best friend and second-in-command that I had made my own arrangements to fly into the airport at Newark and not Philadelphia. I hadn't told him about the Rico and Michelle Morales aliases, either. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if Tank got mad once he discovered my deception. Oh well, he'd get over it – after he gave me a proper thrashing at the gym. And that was fine by me.

By using our new aliases to travel, none of my men would be able figure out when or where we would be arriving that afternoon. This was important, because I didn't want anything goofy to happen when we returned to New Jersey. Papí's surprise wedding reception for us - as nice as it was - had been more than enough partying for me. There probably would be another reception for us in Trenton or Newark or, heaven forbid, both places, but I didn't think I could endure that situation upon our arrival today.

You see, my intuition told me that someone - probably my meddlesome cousin, Lester - was planning something. My men worked hard and partied hard and they would use just about any occasion to pull out a keg and a boom box. I wasn't in the mood to deal with all that. It was my goal to arrive quietly back into town before anyone could ambush me and Stephanie with another well-meaning, but untimely, wedding celebration. I only wanted to take my Babe straight to the seventh floor for a nice, uncomplicated evening at home in our own bed. With any luck, 'Rico Morales' and I would be able to accomplish my goals.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Stephanie's POV**

It wasn't my fault that we almost missed our flight. Okay, so maybe it was - just a little, though. I thought we were doing fine. After a fabulous morning by the hotel's pool, we went back to our room, finished packing our suitcases and ate a quick lunch in the hotel's restaurant before we checked out. I was even wearing my regular jeans in preparation for going back up north where autumn really felt like autumn. Unfortunately, we fell a bit behind schedule when I remembered that I hadn't purchased enough souvenirs for all my family and friends.

Ranger tersely reminded me that I could buy practically a whole suitcase full of trinkets and whatever else I wanted at the gift shops in the airport, but I told him that I knew everything would be too expensive there - airport merchandise always is. Anyway, I asked him to pull over at one of the nearby South Beach gift shops and I frantically searched for the right gifts to give everyone. I suppose it took me too much time to make my final decisions.

"Babe, please. It's time to go." Ranger's voice had an edge to it and I knew my time was up. He even pulled out his credit card to pay for my purchases, but I wouldn't let him do it. After all, these were _**my**_ gifts for _**my**_ family and friends and I was determined to use my hard-earned money – now that I actually had a lot of it - to pay for them.

Needless to say, Ranger was _**not **_happy with me. In fact, he sulked practically all the way to the airport. I tried to apologize, but he was in his own little world – his zone, as I called it - while he drove along the busy highway. He even radiated a frosty chill which reminded me of the weather report for New Jersey. Apparently, our home state, along with its regional neighbors, was experiencing an early cold snap - the high temperature for that day was only supposed to be in the range of thirty to thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Brrr! I was glad I had my red pullover sweater with me for the plane ride, but I'd definitely need a jacket as soon as we got to Newark.

When we arrived at the Miami airport, 'Rico Morales' breezed through the security checkpoint, just like Ranger normally does. Unfortunately, 'Michelle Morales' had the same bad luck with the security guards as Stephanie Plum. As soon as I passed through the metal detector, they asked me to step aside for a more thorough inspection of my personal belongings. For some reason, this put a tiny smile back on Ranger's face. I came dangerously close to smacking that little smirk off of his face after the guards finished pawing through all of my stuff.

"Only you, Babe," he chuckled softly to me as we hurried to our departure gate. "Only you."

"Hmph! It's _**not **_my fault!" I insisted rather stiffly, "This happens to me every time! How come _**you**_ never get molested at these checkpoints? Huh, _**Rico**_?"

Ranger merely chuckled and said, "Well, _**Michelle**_, some of us are just lucky that way. You, querida, clearly are not so lucky in this area. Perhaps I'd better reconsider my plans to have you travel with me more often. We might need to stick to cars and trains."

I gave him my best Burg girl death glare, which only made him laugh aloud. By the time we reached our gate, most of the other passengers had already boarded. I knew that Ranger considered us to be late, but I figured that, as long as the flight attendant still let us go through the gate, we were good to go.

Once we settled into our first-class seats, Ranger requested blankets and pillows for us. I informed him that I had no intention of sleeping during the flight and he grinned at me knowingly. Of course, his smugness irritated me even more and I seriously considered ignoring him for the rest of the trip. I remained silent during the take-off, but Ranger held my hand the entire time and squeezed it reassuringly until the plane reached its cruising altitude.

"May I get something for you to drink, Mrs. Morales?" The flight attendant with the beverage cart smiled at me, but it took a moment - as well as a sudden hand squeeze - for me to remember that I was traveling under an alias.

"Oh ... yes," I finally said. "Um … may I have a ginger ale, please?" And I glared at Ranger for nearly killing my hand. He ignored me as he smoothly requested a bottle of water for himself.

When the attendant turned away from us, Ranger leaned over and whispered into my ear, "You've got to relax, Babe, and keep your wits about you. Just think of this flight as a ... a sort of rehearsal for an upcoming mission. It's a beautiful, calm day. There's no turbulent weather. You shouldn't be this uptight."

"That's easy for _**you **_to say," I whispered back at him. "You fly everywhere all the time. I'm just a novice at this."

We both paused to accept our drinks from the flight attendant and waited for her to be out of hearing range before we continued our little discussion. True, it was a beautiful day to fly the friendly skies - nothing at all like our perilous flight from the previous week. Still, I was very nervous and Ranger kept reminding me to breathe. After I finished my drink, he took my hand, placed it over his heart, and coaxed me to fall into his breathing rhythm.

It wasn't until he covered us with the blankets and slid his hand under my shirt that I remembered the rest of Ranger's wonderful relaxation techniques from our journey down to Miami. When I gazed into his eyes and watched them darken with desire, I finally understood that he had every intention of keeping me as relaxed as possible until we landed. Trust me, the Wizard's magic fingers definitely achieved their goal and only his constant kisses kept me from moaning out loud. It was the best flight - ever.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Ranger's POV**

Thankfully, there wasn't anyone from either RangeMan or my family to greet us in Newark when we our flight arrived. There were a few tense moments when I was sure that one of my men must have discovered our change of plans, but no one ambushed us the way that my Papí and the crew in Miami did after our wedding. We were able to take a taxi to Trenton and while we were on our way there, Stephanie turned on her cell phone and called her parents to let them know she had returned safely.

"Daddy?" Steph said and I couldn't avoid listening to her side of the conversation. "Yes, it's me, Stephanie … Thank you, Daddy … I love him very much and I'm happier than I've been in a long time ... We just landed at Newark … No, not yet, but I'm not hungry; my stomach has to calm down after the flight ... Actually, it was fine – much better than when we flew _**to**_ Florida ... Where's Mom? … Oh, no, don't disturb her; I know how much she likes to take those long baths … Uh-huh ... … How's Rex? … Uh-huh … Well, Grandma's doing fine. Thanks for helping her get to Miami in time for the wedding ... Uh-huh ... Wow! Really? No, we haven't seen them yet ... Listen, I gotta hang up now. Let Mom know that I'll call her about us coming over for dinner tomorrow, okay? … Love you, too, Daddy. Bye!" Then she scrolled through her other messages without answering any of them and turned her phone off again.

I grinned at Steph and said, "Proud of you, Babe. Sounds like you held your own."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's a lot easier to have a civilized conversation with my dad when he's by himself. It'll probably be totally different when I talk to my mother tomorrow."

"You'll do fine."

Steph turned her head away from me and stared out the window on her side of the taxi. All of the cars were slowly creeping along in the normal Tuesday afternoon rush-hour traffic jam. It was obvious that we weren't going to roll into Trenton until seven p.m. at the earliest. I knew my Babe was worried about the near future and I was ready to help her get through it. It was a relief, though, when she sighed, relaxed against me and snuggled into my chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't check with you first before I volunteered us to go to dinner at my parents' house tomorrow night," Steph admitted. "And now that we're back to being Stephanie and Carlos, there are lots of things we've got to do. I just figured that we'd have to face the music sooner or later. Besides, I miss Rex."

I hugged her closer to me. "It was inevitable, Babe. Speaking of facing the music, I know we're going back up to Newark on Friday for my Grandma Rosa's birthday party, but I've been thinking that it might be a good idea for us to have dinner with my parents on Thursday night. That way, there won't be as much pressure on us at the party."

"Hmm," she said skeptically. "We'll see about that. My dad said that my mom calmed down considerably after they received an express mail package this afternoon. It was filled with several photos - of us - getting married. I wonder if _**your**_ parents received a similar package this afternoon. Maybe you should call them to find out."

A cold chill ran down my spine. I hated these kinds of surprises. "Photos?" I asked.

"Yes, photos," she repeated and lifted her face so that her beautiful blue eyes could gaze into mine. "_**Wedding**_ photos."

"Wedding photos?" I asked stupidly. "Photos of _**our**_ wedding? At the courthouse in South Beach?"

Stephanie sighed in exasperation. "Yes! That's what my dad told me. He said the pictures looked real good, too, and that they made my mother so happy she cried. There was a CD in the package, too, but my dad doesn't really use the computer so he hasn't seen what's on it yet."

"Dios mio!" I exclaimed, shaking my head in disbelief. "I'm going to kill Gonzo! I _**know**_ he's behind this. Silvio, too."

Stephanie shrugged. "Maybe you should thank them instead. Daddy said that even though Grandma Mazur had called and told them all the details, I don't think my mother really believed that we were truly married until she saw those photos. Carlos, do you know who hired that photographer?"

I shook my head again. "I didn't ask. Honestly, I didn't _**care**_. All that mattered was that the woman I love had just become my wife." Then I leaned into her and kissed her. We continued until I got the feeling that were being watched. As soon as I glanced up, I made eye contact with the taxi driver in the rearview mirror and he quickly refocused his attention to the traffic in front of us.

Stephanie was speaking again, "So I was thinking - if my parents already received wedding photos, then who else--?"

"Aw, hell!" I cut her off and then quickly apologized. "There's no way of telling who else has seen those photos or whatever's on that disk. Dammit! Gonzo and Silvio are dead men! Maybe I shouldn't hire so many relatives. At this rate, nothing we do outside of our apartment will ever be private again."

Stephanie tried her best to placate me by cuddling closer to me and patting my chest. "Well, at least Daddy said we look good together."

"That's true; we do," I nodded. "But right now, I can't decide which way I'm going to retaliate against my men. Since they sent copies of those photos to your parents so quickly, chances are that my parents, as well as everyone in the RangeMan organization and probably many of your friends, have seen the photos, too."

"Oh boy!"

I slumped against the back of my seat. "Yeah. They're going to be waiting for us when we arrive at the Haywood building. I can _**feel**_ it."

"Not again!" Steph groaned wearily. "I can't stand another party. My hair's a mess and I feel all gross from the plane ride and, Carlos, I just want to go home!"

"Me, too, Babe. Me, too."

Steph's voice sounded whiny as she asked, "What are we going to do? I can't face anyone looking like this!"

"You look fine."

"No fair! You love me. You _**married**_ me. _**You**_ think I look 'fine' no matter what."

"Usually," I agreed.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Usually? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Babe."

We actually made it all the way into the lobby of the Haywood building before anyone stopped us. I had half-expected to see balloons and streamers all over the place, but everything looked normal. In fact, it was quiet – _**too**_ quiet. Binkie was at the front desk and I could sense the onset of his anxiety as soon as he saw us pulling our suitcases behind us.

"Ranger ... sir!" Binkie suddenly stood at a modified position of attention as we approached the desk. "And Miss Plum, too, I mean ... uh ... Mrs., uh … Mrs. Ranger. It's good to see you again. You're back ... and ... and you're _**married**_! Congratulations! Um ... do you need any help with your bag--"

I already had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and the sight of Binkie's eyes darting back and forth as he let his last sentence trail off was a dead give-away. It was obvious that he was trying to stall us. I patted Binkie on his shoulder and told him not to worry; we could handle our luggage just fine. Then I focused on the security camera and addressed both Binkie and whoever was on duty in the control room.

"Yes, we're back," I said. "Yes, we're married. And yes, we'll be on the seventh floor until further notice." Then I escorted Stephanie over to the elevator.

"Welcome home, _**Mr. and Mrs. Ranger**_!" Lester proclaimed as the elevator doors opened, "We've seen the photos and we've watched the videos, but now that you're here in the flesh, it's time to get this party started! Of course, you're late – later than _**we**_ had expected, anyway – but that's okay. I'm here to escort you two lovebirds up to the fifth-floor conference room."

I shook my head, "Maybe later, Santos, but not right now."

"Yes, _**right now**_, coz," Lester grinned. "You may have been successful at evading Bobby and Tank at the airport, but we all figured that you'd try to sneak your way back in here." Then he turned to Stephanie and held out his arms toward her, "Hey, Beautiful! I guess we're related now. Let Cousin Lester give you a proper welcome to the family."

"Careful, _**cousin**_," I said in a low, warning tone of voice. "You're heading into dangerous territory."

Lester rolled his eyes at me and said in Spanish, **"You need to chill out, man. We all know you got the girl - _**finally**_. But she's still our friend, too."** Then he gave Stephanie a big bear hug and twirled her around. "Is Ranger treating you right so far?" He asked her in English when he put her down.

Steph flicked a glance toward me and replied, "So far, so good."

"Well, you just tell Cousin Lester if Ranger gets stupid with you, okay?" Then he winked at her.

"You're pushing your luck, Santos," I growled. Both of us were well aware of the fact that only he and Tank could get away with this level of insubordination toward me.

"I know, I know," he waved his hand dismissively. "Meet you on the mats at zero-dark-thirty in the morning so you can _**try**_ to beat the crap out of me. I'll be waiting for you."

"Try?" I said, raising an eyebrow at him as I pulled the luggage into the elevator.

He grinned mischievously at me and said, "The way I figure it, boss-man, you gonna be too tired to do anything more than _**try**_ to whup my ass. Besides, after what I saw on those videos of you two dancing in the club and what Gonzo told me about the way you two behaved down in Miami, I'm sure that Stephanie's gonna wear you _**ou**_--"

Before Lester could finish his sentence, I sucker-punched him in the gut to shut him up and I shoved him out of the elevator and into the lobby. "Sorry for the inconvenience, _**cousin**_, but Stephanie and I need a few moments of privacy to decompress after our trip. Tell everyone - whoever they might be - that we will join all of you in the conference room in an hour."

"Urk--" Lester groaned. Then he slowly straightened and, as the elevator doors slid shut, I heard him groan, "Right, boss. See you ... later, _**sir**_."

Then I used my key fob to make the elevator go up to the seventh floor. It was a sure bet that the guys in the control room were watching every move and listening to every word of our exchange and I hoped my actions would remind them of who is in charge of things around here. I also hoped that punch would serve as a warning to keep the lewd comments about me and my new wife to a minimum. My new wife, however, was not amused by my actions.

"Ranger!" She turned on me and exclaimed angrily. "I can't believe you hit Lester like that!"

I shrugged, knowing the guys were still listening. "Believe me, Babe; we've done worse things to each other. He knows the deal - and so does _**everyone**_ else."

"But that was just plain _**mean**_," Stephanie chided me.

"Babe." I did _**not **_want to argue with Stephanie in front of the security cameras, so I was very glad when the elevator doors slid open at that moment.

Usually, my Babe and I would be all over each other on the way up to the seventh floor, but I had decided to implement my new privacy standards immediately. Starting now, the 'free shows' in the elevator and hallways would be fewer and farther between. Unfortunately, even though Stephanie's temper was flaring up, it was difficult for me to keep my hands to myself.

I barely managed to wait until we were inside the privacy of the apartment before I gathered my Babe into my arms and kissed her long and hard. Surprisingly, she raised her hands upward, pushed against my chest and then pulled away from my kisses. When I gazed into her eyes questioningly, I could see that she was still angry about something - probably my treatment of Lester.

"You _**can't **_go around punching everyone who makes a comment about our … um, the way we … uh … oh, never mind!" Steph complained.

"Babe."

Her blue eyes flashed angrily. "I'm serious, Ranger! I don't want you attacking your men in some misguided attempt to defend my honor. That's a load of macho crap and I won't have it! We have a bigger problem to deal with now. It sounds like your cousin Gonzo got the security tapes from '_¡Caliente!'_ and then he sent everyone video clips of us dancing the night away along with the wedding photos. You might have to wait your turn to kill him if I get to him first."

"I'm sorry, Babe," I said. "I've got other men – cousins, even – who can take care of Gonzo for me down in Miami. Don't worry, he won't be dead afterward; he'll just wish he was. For now, though, Lester and anyone else who makes a smartass comment about you will have to answer to _**me**_."

"No, Carlos!" Steph exclaimed. "You already hit Lester, so get over it. Obviously, everyone around here knows that you and I can be a bit, ah, physical sometimes. The other guys are going to make a bunch of silly comments and they're going to joke around about us – if not to our faces, then certainly behind our backs. There's nothing either of us can do about that and you know it!"

I could barely believe what had just come out of Stephanie's mouth, so I answered her very carefully, "Babe, these are _**my**_ men and I will _**not**_ tolerate any disrespect toward you or toward our marriage. They'll need to adjust to our new way of life ASAP. Remember, the main reason we changed our travel plans and used our new aliases was so that we could come back into town without too much of a fuss."

"But Carlos, it turns out that all our sneaking around didn't matter anyway," she argued. "Gonzo still sent those photos and videos without your knowledge and it looks like the Merry Men planned a party for us without your knowledge, too. You can't control every little thing."

My anger flared and I had to work hard to keep my voice low and even, "I can and I _**will**_ safeguard our privacy, Babe – even if we have to move out of this building - and that's a promise. From now on, whoever's watching the monitors will see far less of the 'Ranger and Stephanie Show' than they're used to seeing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that we – you and me – are going to have to work harder to keep our private life, well, private. As you know all too well, there are cameras and mics everywhere, except in here. And believe it not, some of my men are just as nosy as you are."

Of course, Stephanie glared at my last comment before she said, "Fine. No more groping each other in the elevator. Got it. All I'm saying is that you didn't have to hit Lester. I'm sure that he and all the other guys meant well."

"Okaaay," I said, trying not to sound too cynical. "Tell me this, Stephanie: do you want to go back downstairs right now, with you feeling - and I quote - 'all gross from the plane ride' _**or**_ would you rather take a shower with me right now and feel clean and refreshedwhen we go to the conference room to see all those people who meant well? The choice is yours, Babe."

Stephanie pretended to think about her options for a moment before she narrowed her eyes at me and said, "Mister, you drive a hard bargain."

I lowered my voice another notch and replied, "That's not the _**only **_hard thing I drive, Babe."

Steph blinked and then we both sprang into action. Abandoning our suitcases and other bags in the foyer, we quickly stripped off all our clothes on the way to the shower. Steph made some smartass comments about the similarities between this apartment and the one in Miami, but I didn't care. My mind and body were focused on loving my wife and I worshipped her body as never before. Later, when were lying together in the king-sized bed she had so hastily vacated the previous week, I just stared at her beauty and thanked God again that she finally was mine.

When I tilted up Steph's chin in order to kiss her sweet lips, her stomach growled loudly and we both laughed. I glanced over my shoulder at the clock on the nightstand and realized that we had been up here for almost an hour. Probably, everyone was angry at us and still waiting for us downstairs, but I wouldn't have minded if they had all gone away instead. I was sure that there had to be some sort of party food and drinks and other junk that my hungry Babe really would like to eat, so I dragged us out of our bed.

I pulled on a pair of jogging shorts and Stephanie shrugged into the robe she had always worn when she was here before. I decided that it really was _**her **_robe now and I told her to keep on wearing it. She gave me a big hug and an even bigger kiss and we almost didn't make it out of the bedroom. Unfortunately for me, her bossy stomach forced us into the kitchen. Not feeding the 'beast' was not an option at that point. I wasn't sure what we'd find downstairs, but it wouldn't be fair to make Steph wait to eat if the people at the party were going to make a fuss over us.

"Wow!" Steph said as she peered at me over the top of the refrigerator door. "I can't believe it - there's actually a _**cake **_in here! And ... omigod!" She leaned back down and I heard her voice exclaim, "There's a jar of peanut butter ... and my favorite kind of olives ... and there's even _**white**_ bread in here!" Her head popped back up and she grinned at me, "I thought you didn't keep my kind of junk food in your fridge."

"I didn't," I replied, silently thanking Ella for helping Stephanie to feel at home here. "And I wouldn't have that junk food in there now, except ... except it's not _**my **_fridge anymore, Babe. It's _**our **_fridge now, and I know what you consider to be your 'happy food.' Ella stocked it according to my new directions, so I hope that you realize by now that your happiness is very important to me. I only ask that you try to eat healthier foods from time to time, like you did when we were in Florida."

The smile my Babe gave me in return made the existence of the junk food in my immediate vicinity worthwhile. I knew it would be difficult for me to resist all the sweets and the empty calories she loved so much, but I was willing to make the sacrifice. Hopefully, my accommodations to my bride would give me a better bargaining position when the time came for her to participate in the intensive physical training I had scheduled for her to receive during the next few weeks. My men and I had to get Stephanie Plum to move beyond her signature move of a knee to the groin.

After we both made and ate our sandwiches and finished drinking our Coronas, we got dressed again - this time in our normal Rangeman clothes - and prepared to face our friends and co-workers downstairs. On a whim, I suggested that we check the messages on our cell phones. I figured this might help us gauge the mood of the crowd. Sure enough, plenty of people were mad at us for not arriving in Philly as originally scheduled and their complaints were loud and clear.

From Tank to me: "Hey, man, that's not cool! You could have at least told _**me **_that you had changed your plans." And later: "Aw, hell! Now Bobby and I will be lucky if either of our women lets us back into their beds by next week. You and me gotta talk – ASAP!" Then later still: "About Lula. You know, we _**were **_back together – that is, until you and your new wife decided to be no-shows at the airport. Call me!" And lastly: "All right, all right. We all know what you and Stephanie are doin' up there, so go right ahead and don't mind us. But I won't be held responsible for what happens when you two finally decide to grace us with your esteemed presence."

From Lula to Steph: "Hey, white girl! You and that _**fine**_ man of yours are _**so**_ busted! We saw those videos of y'all dancing to that Latino music and, girl, you owe us an explanation. You been holdin' out on us and we want _**all**_ the details. And what's with this crap about y'all not showin' up at the airport like you were supposed to? Did you do one of them mysterious things like Diesel does and just _**pop**_ back into town? Shoot! All we wanted to do was welcome your married ass back home, but now, me and Connie, we've just decided to eat all of the cake and not save you any. Mmm! It tastes good, too! Call me!"

From Ella to me: "Congratulations on your wedding, Ranger! Rosie told me all about it and, of course, I've seen the pictures. You two look so happy together! Listen, I understand your need for privacy. Don't worry about the other boys; they'll calm down - eventually. I hope you and Stephanie discovered the provisions I put in the refrigerator for you. Please call me if you need anything else."

From Mrs. Plum to Stephanie: "Stephanie, this is your mother. Your father told me that you called while I was in the bathtub. I can't believe you let your grandmother stay in Florida! I just _**know**_ she's going to cause a lot of trouble down there in Miami! As for dinner tomorrow night, Joseph would eat anything, but you once told me that Ranger is very picky about his food and I want to fix something that he'll really like. Do you think your new husband would prefer pot roast, baked ham, or roasted chicken? Call me!"

From Lester to me, in Spanish, of course: **"Cousin, you are such an ass! But don't worry, we got you covered. There _**will **_be payback, so don't try to avoid it. Just remember, payback is a-- Hey, Ramon! What's wrong with you, man? Put that keg back where it belongs!"**

That last message was cut off and I could imagine the chaos going on downstairs. My head hurt just thinking about it. Thankfully, all the good sex we'd been having had helped to mellowed us out a bit, so I was extremely glad that we had come upstairs first. Still, I dreaded going down to the party.

If only I had told Tank about our change of plans, perhaps he could have kept all the well-wishers away, at least for another day. Of course, I knew that certain people really wanted to celebrate the fact that Stephanie and I had eloped. Other people just wanted us to prove that we really were married now. My desire for privacy, as well as my innate sneakiness had caused us to become 'targets' for the time being. Nevertheless, it was time for us newlyweds to make an appearance, so left the privacy of our apartment and headed toward the elevator.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Lester's POV**

Things wouldn't have been so bad if Ranger hadn't changed his travel plans without telling anyone. Tank was worried when he discovered that our boss and his new wife had not arrived on the flight we thought they were supposed to be on. He and Bobby and their girlfriends, Lula and Vivien, had waited at the airport terminal in Philadelphia – all of them looking goofy because the ladies had insisted on bringing balloons and flowers to give to the newlyweds.

After all the passengers disembarked, Tank finally thought to check the flight's manifest. When he didn't see Ranger and Stephanie's names - or even their aliases of 'Marc and Stella Pardo' - on the list, he thought they had missed their flight, so he called Gonzo for more information. Tank got real mad when he figured out what my sneaky cousin had done. Only Lula's good lovin' calmed him down again.

They all came back to the Haywood building and we devised a new plan. Ranger was slick, but we knew he had to come home eventually. If Gonzo had been here, I would have kissed him. Ranger's equally-slick cousin on his mother's side of the family had sent us a true treasure chest of material to work with – videos of Ranger and Stephanie dancing making out in the elevator of the Biscayne building, videos of Ranger and Stephanie dancing at a nightclub owned by another one of his Súarez cousins, and lots of photos of Ranger and Stephanie's wedding day.

While we were waiting for the sneaky couple to arrive, we put together a slammin' multimedia presentation and then we let it run continuously on the big screen in the conference room. Everyone who watched it was mesmerized by the sight of our beautiful Stephanie smiling and dancing in the arms of our tough-guy boss. It had been so long since Ranger had gone out club-hopping with the men that most of the newer hires didn't even realize that he could dance. Now they knew.

We usually didn't have regular females at our parties, but Ella had insisted that we invite a few of Stephanie's girlfriends to our little welcome-home celebration. Of course, Lula would have been there, anyway, now that she and Tank are back together. She brought in Connie Rosolli, but everybody knew her from the bonds office. Bobby's redheaded girlfriend, Vivien, had the day off so she came back from Philly with him. That really wasn't a lot of women, but Ella was happy to have company.

As for that sucker-punch, well, you have to understand that Carlos and I have been beating each other to a pulp since we were little kids. That's why his direct hit to my gut was not entirely a surprise. I'd always suspected that Ranger was a 'goner' as far as Stephanie was concerned, but … _**damn**_! Now he was 'whipped', too. And he was gonna pay for his actions all right. Oh, yeah, the other guys and I were gonna have a lot of fun with the new Mr. and Mrs. Ranger.

Honestly, I love my cousin with all of my heart, but there was no way I was gonna let his arrogant ass get away his usual load of crap. After Ranger punched me and pushed me out of the elevator, I started to laugh my behind off. Binkie thought I was going crazy, but I just told him to chill out. We'd let the horny little newlyweds have their hour of privacy and _**then**_ the fun and games would begin.

First of all, I had an entire apartment's worth of white balloons which some of the guys would stuff into Ranger's place as soon as they came down to the party. It only took us two hours to convince Ella to help us with that gag and we had to promise to do the clean-up ourselves. The extra 'training' sessions in the gym would be worth it to hear our boss hollering when he discovered that he would have dig his way into his bedroom after the party.

Next, I had created a playlist of songs on my iPod, which was hooked into the sound system, that were guaranteed to embarrass Ranger and Stephanie. Tops on the list were 'You Dropped A Bomb On Me' by the Gap Band and 'Super Freak' by Rick James. There also was another song from our Army days that Ranger despised – 'Who Let the Dogs Out?' by the Baha Men.

Back when Carlos was Captain Mañoso, he had commanded the Rangers of Company B, whose nickname was the 'Bravo Bulldogs' and some of us in different companies played the popular song _**every**_ time anyone from his unit showed up at a social gathering of any kind. His men would bark like dogs and everyone would point at him as though he was the one who had let those 'dogs' out of their kennel, or barracks. Yes, it became tiresome, but that was the whole point. I could hardly wait to see my cousin's face when he heard that old tune.

All of us were crowded around the monitors, watching and waiting for Ranger and Stephanie to emerge from his – no, _**their**_ - apartment. All of the men knew we'd all have to adjust to our Bombshell BEA's constant presence in the building now, but after my newly-married cousin's actions so far, none of us were in the mood to make things easy for him. As soon as they stepped into the elevator, Hector punched a button to make it lurch to a stop and Aerosmith's song 'Love in an Elevator' blasted from my iPod, through the sound system and into the small space.

The horrified expressions on our captives' faces were well worth the beating Ranger was gonna give us in the gym over the next few days. Stephanie finally giggled, but Ranger glared up at the security camera for a while longer. When it was obvious that we wouldn't be letting them out of the elevator any time soon, my cousin shrugged his shoulders, turned to his new wife and gave her the kind of kiss that raised everyone's temperature. Seriously, though, I was glad to see Ranger 'playing the game' with us now.

We had decorated the hallway with a white runner which led from the elevator landing to the conference room and everyone was lined up against both sides of the hall, ready to throw confetti at the newlyweds when they walked between us. Although some of the guys had started drinking already, most of the RangeMan employees who were off-duty had stayed around to wait for our guests of honor before they began to chow down on all the food we'd brought in.

When Ranger and Stephanie finally stepped out of the elevator, holding each other's hands, everyone greeted them with a barrage of cat-calls, wolf-whistles, hoots and applause. Ranger's smile was tight and I could tell that he was barely holding back his annoyance. Stephanie's smile was genuine, though, and her face was a beautiful bright pink. Suddenly, all I could think of was that she and my cousin must have been having some really good sex for the better part of the past hour. Lucky dogs!

As soon as the happy couple began to walk down the hallway toward me, I called out, in my best military voice, "Ladies and gentlemen … at long last and for the first time ever in these hallowed halls ... I present to you … Mr. and Mrs. Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, also known as _**Mr. and Mrs. Ranger**_!"

Then the _**real**_ party began.

**

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**

A/N: Congrats to 'Necie77' who sent me the four-hundredth review! Many thanks to everyone for taking the time to tell me what you like about my story, as well as hints and recommendations for improvement. Most of you seemed to like the photos and I'll try to add more of them when I find others which fit my 'vision' of the way things are in my story. My RL continues to be more hectic than ever, but I'm optimistic about updating the next chapter sooner rather than later. Now that my versions of Ranger and Stephanie are married, I hope you'll keep reading as I take the story back to its original premise. As always, please let me know what you think of my work. Thanks! :D


	24. Chapter 24

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination. Also, the selected lyrics for the song 'Who Let the Dogs Out' belong to the group, The Baha Men.**

**A/N: Our heroes have returned to Trenton and they are getting back into the swing of things – both figuratively and literally. Technically, this isn't a song-fic, but I've used some lyrics to highlight certain points. As the title of this much-shorter chapter indicates, everyone's having a bit of fun now - well, almost. Again, there are multiple POVs. Enjoy! :D**

_

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_

I strapped my vest on and watched while everyone else buckled on black nylon web utility belts and holstered guns.

"_Let me take a wild guess here," Ranger said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "You forgot to bring your gun."_

"_Interior decorators don't use guns."_

"_They do in this neighborhood."_

_The men were lined up in front of me._

"_Gentlemen," Ranger said, "this is Ms. Plum."_

_The indeterminate-origin guy put his hand out. "Lester Santos."_

_The next guy in line did the same. "Bobby Brown."_

_The last man was Tank. It was easy to see how he'd come by the name._

"_I'd better not get into trouble for this," I said to Ranger. "I'm going to be really bummed if I get arrested. I hate getting arrested."_

_Santos grinned. "Man, you don't like to get shot. You don't like to get arrested. You don't know how to have fun at all."_

_Ranger shrugged into his jacket and set off, crossing the street with the band of merry men closing ranks behind him._

_High Five_

**

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Chapter 24: Party Animals

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
**_

**Lester's POV**

I am a dead man. Ranger is going to _**kill**_ me. He's always hated this song. Aw, screw it! It's for a good cause and I'm not apologizing for anything. My cousin and his new wife deserved a nice welcome home after their elopement, but they tried to be sneaky and now all hell's broken loose. At least Stephanie is being a good sport about it. Anyway, now that I've filled my gullet directly from the keg tap, this has officially become a par-_**tay**_!

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

**Bobby's POV**

I _**told**_ Lester that his musical jokes might be going a bit too far. I mean, Ranger hates that dog song and Lester knows it. Sure, Tank and I got fairly upset when Ranger and Stephanie failed to arrive at the scheduled time and place, but we recovered quickly. Tank's on-again woman, Lula, and my long-time girlfriend, Vivian, weren't very happy with the wasted time, either, but their attitudes brightened considerably when we told them that they could help us make some adjustments to the party we'd already planned for the wayward newlyweds.

Luckily, Vivian had a few days off now because she'd have to be on duty at the hospital over the Thanksgiving weekend. We had already decided to spend the next few days at a bungalow near the beach. I could hardly wait to wrap myself all over my red-haired beauty for the rest of the week. However, a couple of extra hours in Trenton wouldn't hurt us, especially since I hadn't figured out exactly how I was going to propose to Viv.

You see, I had received a very encouraging phone call from Doctor O'Neill on the same day that Ranger and Stephanie had tied the knot. Thanks to the changes in our eating habits – largely due to Ranger's tyranny in the kitchen – our bodies were finally healing themselves. Something about the properties of pineapples and other tropical fruits had strengthened our reproductive systems and the Doc was very excited about briefing his findings to everyone during his upcoming visit. Soon, every man who had been poisoned on that ill-fated mission to Colombia would be able to father children.

Actually, Lester probably wouldn't be the only man Ranger decided to pummel into the ground after this party. Several of us had placed a few gifts on our boss-man's desk, but he hadn't seen all of them yet. First, there was the original copy of the multimedia presentation that Gonzo, Silvio and Lester had worked on, but _**everyone**_ at RangeMan had seen it. Vince and some of the other guys had pitched in and given the newlyweds a set of very expensive black silk sheets. Tank had allowed Lula to talk him into giving Ranger a set of fur-lined handcuffs. I didn't ask why. And as a result of the Doc's good news, I had given Ranger a jumbo box of condoms – you know, for medical reasons. Honestly, I did _**not**_ want to be in the building when Ranger finally discovered this cache. He was gonna go ape…

_**When the party was nice, the party was jumpin'**_

_**(Hey, Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
And everybody havin' a ball**_

_**(Hah, Ho, Yippie Yi Yo)**_

_**I tell the fellas "start the name callin"**_

_**(Yippie Yi Yo)  
And the girls report to the call  
The poor dog show down**_

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

**Lula's POV**

I love my best friend, Stephanie, but let me tell you: by the time she and Ranger finally came downstairs to start the party, I was hungrier than a lion at feeding time in the zoo. I had even called and left a message on Stephanie's cell phone, telling her that me and Connie were gonna eat all the cake without saving her any. 'Course, that was a bald-faced lie. All I ate was chips. And some pretzels. And maybe a sandwich or two. And … what? I _**said**_ I was hungry!

Honestly! Now that I've been inside the RangeMan headquarters, I'd be tempted to test out the boss-man for myself – that is, if I wasn't already back together with Tank and _**his**_ best friend wasn't already married to _**my**_ best friend. Of course, my honey, Tank, is the biggest and bestest man of all, but … _**damn**_! All these Merry Men look good enough to eat – not that I'm hungry in _**that**_ way, mind you. I'm a satisfied woman and that's a fact! It's just that, well, being around all these hot-lookin' men puts ideas in a girl's head. And let me tell you, these guys know how to throw a party. Oh, yes they do!

They had a whole bunch of bottles of champagne and wine and all kinds of liquor – only the good stuff – and a keg of beer, too. There were all kinds of sandwiches and snacks, but thankfully, no ribs or barbeque. I guess someone figured out that me and Stephanie wouldn't be happy to see that kind of stuff after all the mess that had happened during the Chipotle case. Also, Ella had cooked some of that real good Spanish food – chicken and rice and stew and such - that Tank is always talking about. The whole spread was laid out on the conference room table, and in the center of the table was a three-tiered wedding cake.

When Tank got back from Miami, he knew he was in trouble for leavin' me behind, so he invited me and Connie to the party for Ranger and Stephanie at the RangeMan building on Haywood Street. Let me tell you, this place is _**nice**_! Don't get me wrong, Tank's still in hot water with me, but I know that he and his men usually party with workin' girls, if you know what I mean. There's only one woman who _**all**_ these men show respect to, and that's Ella Guzman.

As soon as my honey introduced me to Ella - the woman all the Merry Men called their housekeeper - I instantly understood one of the main reasons why Stephanie liked to stay here so much whenever she had a problem with her own apartment or with Officer Hottie. You see, Ella is like the momma everybody wished they had. She takes care of their apartments and their food and their uniforms. And she has a way of makin' a person feel real welcome, no matter where they've come from. I love Ella!

Anyway, Ella had called me and Connie a day or so earlier to make sure we were coming to the party. It was a good thing that our boss, Vinnie, was out of town at a convention and wouldn't be able to tell us we had to work. Ella asked us to order a wedding cake from whichever bakery Stephanie liked the best and she even told us to send the bill to RangeMan. She wanted us to get something with pineapple in it, if at all possible. I thought that was kinda strange, but I didn't argue. So Stephanie and Ranger's wedding cake ended up being a yellow cake with pineapple filling and fluffy white frosting.

As usual, the bakery had put a tiny plastic bride and groom on top of the cake, but no one really thought that those pale little people looked anything like our newlywed friends. Within thirty minutes after the cake was delivered, the Merry Men replaced the wedding figurines with a dark-haired Barbie™ doll and a brown GI Joe™ doll, both dressed up in black commando outfits. It was awesome! But when I pulled Tank aside and asked him if he was worried that his men seemed to have such easy access to these kinds of dolls, he just shrugged and told me that he wouldn't ask and they wouldn't tell.

Anyway, I'm real happy for my best friend and her new hubby. Stephanie and Ranger make a great couple and I'm only a teensy bit upset at them for eloping. I mean, it would have been nice to do the bachelor and bachelorette parties beforehand and all, but as I looked around at the mountain of food and drinks in the conference room, I realized that the Merry Men planned to party hearty after the fact. They obviously didn't care about the timing of it all. Besides, now that their boss was hitched to a known junk-food junkie, there was a lot of chatter about Ella being able to stock the fifth-floor kitchen with some 'good' food.

I gotta admit, though, that I wasn't quite ready to forgive either Ranger or Stephanie for not showin' up at the airport when they were supposed to _**or**_ for makin' us all wait for them to finish doin' what we all knew they were doin' up there in that penthouse apartment of theirs. I was all set to give the inconsiderate newlyweds a piece of my mind, but when I saw the smile on Stephanie's face as they came out of the elevator, I forgave her for runnin' off with her Batman and getting' hitched without tellin' me or anyone else until it was too late for us to do anything but wait for them to return.

While I was throwin' confetti at Ranger and Stephanie, I started to think about how easy it would be to just elope with Tank. After all, the fun parts of gettin' married were the parties and the wedding night anyway. All that church and prenup crap is what drove us crazy and ruined everything when me and my honey were engaged before. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. _**This**_ time, though, I was gonna play it safe and talk to Tank about the whole thing when he was sober – which was _**right now**_.

"Tank! Oh, Tank!" I waved at him from down the hallway. "C'mon over here, Honey Bear. I got somethin' real important I wanna talk to you about."

_**I see ya' little speed boat head up our coast  
She really want to skip town  
Get back Scruffy, get back Scruffy  
Get back you flea infested mongrel**_

**Manny's POV**

Ranger is a lucky, lucky man - especially now that he's finally married to Stephanie Plum. She calls us the 'Merry Men' but we don't mind; I don't think there's a man in the building who hasn't had a crush on Ranger's woman at one time or another. We all knew she was special from the first time we met her. I was on the 'renovation' job where a crack-head shot at Tank and then blew himself up when a little old lady shot him in self-defense. Stephanie was on duty with Tank that night and I was impressed by the way she had survived.

One of my favorite memories is when Stephanie Plum was my 'wife' for a few hours. Unfortunately, I was only semi-conscious during most of that time. I had just gotten shot by a whacko crazy dude who had kidnapped Ranger's daughter. The guy looked so much like Ranger that everyone thought it was Ranger who had taken the girl and killed the woman who had been married to the nutcase. In fact, I got shot because I hesitated when I, too, thought the guy looked liked Ranger.

Anyway, I was waiting in the ER until the doctors could operate on me to take out a bullet that was lodged in my shoulder. Ranger was still a wanted man and couldn't afford to be seen in public, so he sent Stephanie in to the hospital check on me. The ER nurses only allowed family members back in the exam rooms, so she told them that she was my wife and they let her in. My heart did a little flip when Stephanie said she was there to see her husband – me!

I know that Stephanie only stayed with me as a favor to Ranger. Although I was in the Ranger Regiment when he was a company commander, I wasn't in the same unit with him. Still, he's the kind of leader who really cares about his men and I'm proud to work for him today. Ranger has no idea how well he took care of me by sending in his woman to care for me that night. It felt pretty good to hear the nurse call her 'Mrs. Manuel Ramos' a couple of times. Unfortunately, that all ended as soon as I made it through the surgery okay. I swear, it took me a _**long**_ time to get over my crush.

Hey! I just noticed that Connie Rosolli from the bail bonds office is here tonight. I guess she came in with Tank's woman, Lula. Hmm … I wonder if Vince has seen her yet. Everyone knows that he likes Connie, but if he doesn't make a move on her real soon, I might just go after her for myself. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm being a dog about it, but she's kinda cute and she's definitely got a world-class rack, if you know what I mean. I wonder if she'd be interested in seeing my scar …

_**Gonna tell myself, ay, man no get angry**_

_**(Hey, Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
To any girls calling them canine**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
But they tell me "Hey, man, it's part of the party!"**_

_**(Yippie Yi, Yo)  
You put a women in front and her man behind**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
I hear the woman shout out**_

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

**Vince's POV**

You know, I've always had kind of a 'thing' for Connie Rosolli, the office manager over at Vincent Plum's Bail Bonds. I mean, she's got that big, sexy mane of curly brown hair and those big brown eyes and those big, um, well, let's just say that she's quite shapely. The best part of my day is whenever Ranger asks me to drive him over to the office on Hamilton Street to pick up paperwork and such. I always smile at Connie and I'm sure that she's returned my smile a time or two.

Some of my closest buddies know about my little, um, crush, so I got a little nervous when I saw Miss Rosolli here at the party we were throwing for Ranger and Stephanie. She looked so beautiful in her bright red sweater and swirly black skirt. I started to sweat. The fact that she would be the only female who wasn't attached to anyone at the party made me more than a little anxious. I hate to say this, but sometimes, the guys could be somewhat doggish around women.

You see, we don't normally have 'nice' ladies at our parties. In fact, we hardly ever have females at any of our parties – usually that's because we're watching a ball game in someone's apartment or house, or we're out at one of the bars or strip joints when we celebrate important events. This time, though, Ella – who was almost like a mother to most of us – was here, as well as Bobby's woman, Vivian, and Tank's Lula, too.

The main reason for this party was, of course, to celebrate Ranger and Stephanie's wedding. The food was good and the music was, too, but I knew there wouldn't be a lot of dancing and such. Still, I hoped to grab a moment of Connie's time and let her know about my feelings toward her. Who knows? This might be my lucky night and … _**cripes**_! Now Manny's sniffing around my woman! I'd better get over there …

_**Say, a doggy is nuttin' if he don't have a bone**_

_**All doggy hold ya' bone, all doggy hold it**_

_**A doggy is nuttin' if he don't have a bone**_

_**All doggy hold ya' bone, all doggy hold it**_

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

**Ranger's POV**

I am going to _**kill**_ Lester. He knows I hate this song with a passion that defies all reason. Stupid dogs barking and all that crap! I could handle his other musical 'jokes' with what remained of my sense of humor, but my days as the Bravo Company Commander were long since over and I was _**so**_ finished with this song. Alright, alright. I know that _**I**_ truly deserved the abuse that my men were dishing out, but my wife certainly didn't deserve such harassment. Ahhh … my wife – yeah, I loved saying those two words now.

The multimedia presentation that was playing continuously on the screen in conference room truly was amazing. The transitions between the grainy videos of the club scenes and photos of my courthouse wedding and the reception afterward looked like they had been put together by professional photographers. I had to admit – my Babe and I looked good together. _**Real**_ good. Although I still intended on punishing my cousins for their underhandedness, I couldn't deny the excellence of their surveillance work and computer editing skills.

In all fairness, I realize that brought this mess down upon us. My men probably would have left us alone for a few days if they hadn't felt so offended by my actions. Yes, I should have told Tank what was going on. I could have sworn him to secrecy and avoided all of this. At least I'd like to think so, anyway.

After cornering Lester and ordering him to back off on the music, I noticed a little 'situation' in the opposite corner of the conference room. It looked like Manny Ramos had made a move on Connie Rosolli, whom everyone knew that Vince Serrano really liked. Now Vince and Manny were trading heated words back and forth and I could sense that things were about to spiral out of control. I was over there, standing in between them, in less than three seconds.

"Gentlemen," I smoothly interrupted, "Is there a problem?"

"No, sir!" Both Vince and Manny quickly answered as they wiped the angry expressions off of their faces and stood straight up, almost at attention. They had served in the Ranger Regiment with me and they knew how to 'soldier-up' pretty fast. Unfortunately, they both were lying; we all knew that there was a problem and we needed to deal with it ASAP.

"Hi, Connie," I nodded at Vinnie's secretary and office manager, who seemed to be a bit flustered by all the attention she had been receiving during the party.

"Hey, Ranger," Connie said. "Congratulations again on your marriage to our Stephanie. Vinnie's gonna have a cow when he gets back in town, you know."

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lula snuggled up against Tank while she and my Babe chatted happily. Turning back toward Connie, I laughed and said, "You should tell Vinnie that it's probably time for him to hire another BEA or two."

Connie also glanced at her two girlfriends and returned my smile. "I guess you're right. But I don't know how the office is gonna survive."

"Vinnie's resourceful," I assured her. "He'll figure it out. Of course, Stephanie and I will still help him out from time to time, but we'll reserve the right to be choosy about the cases we take on."

"Of course," she agreed and smiled slyly at me.

Manny and Vince were still hovering nearby, glaring at each other and waiting for me to leave so that they could resume their competition for Connie's attention. I sighed and asked her, "Are these two men giving you any trouble, Connie?"

Connie gasped in horror. "Oh, no, Ranger! I think there's been a slight misunderstanding. Manny here was just getting ready to show me his scar from when he got shot at the bonds office. But I was planning on talking to Vince after that."

"Really?" Both Vince and Manny answered in unison and then glanced at each other before returning their gazes toward Connie.

She gently placed her hand on Manny's forearm and said, "I'm real sorry you got hurt defending our office and I'm glad you healed up nicely and all, but I think Vince has something to say to me and I've been waiting a long time to hear it. So if you'll excuse us …" Then she slid her arm around Vince's and led him away toward the conference room door. Neither of them looked back as they strolled off to a more private place.

I raised my eyebrow at Manny. He only shrugged and said, "All's well that ends well."

That brought a grin to my face and I said, "Are you quoting Shakespeare now, Ramos?"

He smirked and replied, "Yeah. It's that English Lit class I'm taking at the community college. I really like it - Shakespeare's good stuff _**and**_ there are lots of chicks are in my class." Then he sauntered away, whistling as he made his way toward the crowd gathered around the keg.

"Close call?" Stephanie asked as she curled her arm around my waist. I had felt her presence behind me and wondered how much longer we had to be polite and stay down here.

"Maybe," I replied. Then I wrapped my arms around my Babe, kissed the top of her head and breathed out another sigh. "Maybe not."

Stephanie chuckled softly and leaned closer to me. "Why do I have the feeling that I've just married into some sort of weird fraternity – one with Ella as the house mom and you as the president of the frat house?"

"Hmm … Kappa Phi RangeMan," I quipped. "I suppose that fits - as long as it stays a frat house and not a _**dog**_ house, we'll be alright."

_**Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)  
Who let the dogs out**_

_**(woof, woof, woof, woof)**_

_**(Yippie, Yi, Yo)**_

**

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**

A/N: My apologies for the way the fonts might appear on your screen, but my connection to ffnet was acting up. On a different note, I've scoured the original books for references to the surnames of the Merry Men, but JE has only provided a few of them, so I've taken some creative license. However, the book quote I used at the beginning of this chapter is the first reference to Stephanie meeting and naming the Merry Men. I hope you liked it! As always, please let me know what you think of my work. Thanks! :D


	25. Chapter 25

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination. **

**A/N: Okay, I know it has been a while since I last updated. In appreciation for everyone's patience, I have written my longest chapter ever. I'm returning to the story's original premise, so our heroes will have a few things to work out as they navigate the sometimes rocky road of married life. Even though there have been lots of comical moments in this tale so far, this is still classified as a 'hurt/comfort/romance' story. With that in mind, this long chapter takes a bit of a darker turn. Once again, this is a multiple-POV chapter. Enjoy! :D**

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… _Ever since we'd had the discussion about marriage my imagination had been running wild dredging up possibilities for his deep dark secret. I knew it had nothing to do with killing people because that was no secret. I knew he wasn't gay. I'd seen that one firsthand. The memory brought a new rush of heat, and I resisted squirming in my seat. Was he scarred by a terrible childhood? Had his heart been so badly broken he was unable to recover?_

"_Earth to Babe," Ranger said._

_I looked at him and unconsciously licked my lips._

"_I'm going to have to disconnect your cubby's security camera," Ranger said. "I just heard everyone in the control room gasp when you licked your lips. I could have a hatchet murder taking place in full monitor view on one of my accounts, and I don't think anyone would notice as long as you're sitting here."_

_-- __Eleven on Top_

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Chapter 25: Tortured Soul, Part 2

**Stephanie's POV**

Our RangeMan wedding reception was one of the best and most laid-back parties I had ever attended. Everything, from Lester's annoying musical selections to the hilarious wedding cake toppers to the lack of any pressure to be anyone other than my natural self, was fantastic. I knew that Ranger had a few 'disciplinary actions' he planned on delivering during the next morning's gym workout, but I hoped he would remember that everything was for our benefit and that our friends truly meant well.

Nevertheless, after a few hours of celebrating – not to mention a few too many glasses of champagne – I was ready to head upstairs and go to bed. I had been speaking with Lula and Tank, who reminded me that there were some gifts for me and Ranger in his office, when I noticed that Ranger was exchanging words with two of his men. Eventually, the taller one, Vince, followed Connie out of the conference room. My husband – I loved saying that word to describe Ranger – continued talking to the other guy, Manny.

I stood behind Ranger and waited for Manny to walk away before I wrapped my arms around his waist and asked him about the intense-looking conversation. Ranger merely shrugged and told me that it probably wasn't anything to worry about. I wondered aloud if I had just become a member of an odd sort of fraternity here at RangeMan, which made him laugh. Then we both shared a smile over the idea that Connie might have captured the heart of one of our 'frat brothers' this evening.

I gazed up into Ranger's dark eyes and he immediately understood that I was ready to leave. I know he had been ready to go within ten minutes of our arrival on the fifth floor, but he was being extremely polite for the sake of our relationships with our friends here. As soon as we made the rounds and thanked everyone for such a warm welcome home, we finally left the conference room and walked down the hall toward Ranger's office. Ella chased after us, holding a white box in her arms.

"Ranger! Stephanie! Wait!" Ella exclaimed. "I saved the top tier of the cake for you. Here it is – just make sure you put it in the refrigerator as soon as you can." Then she held out the box to us and added, "Oh, and the dolls are in there, too."

I accepted the box and gushed, "Thank you, Ella! This is so sweet of you! I didn't get the chance to thank you for that wonderful suitcase you packed for me before we went to Miami, either, so … Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You're the best, Ella!"

"You're very welcome, Stephanie," she said, blushing. "Just let me know if you need anything – anything at all. I've placed a suit and some accessories for you in the dressing room so that you'll have something nice to wear to court tomorrow."

"Omigod!" I exclaimed. "I completely forgot about that!"

She waved her hands in a consoling gesture, "Well, don't you worry about a thing. I enjoy shopping for you. In fact, there are plenty of other clothes in the dressing room for you, too. Oh! I'm so glad that you and Ranger are finally married! It was about time he added a 'daughter' to all these RangeMan 'sons' of mine." Then she turned to Ranger and said, "And _**you**_ – don't be too hard on the men. They just wanted to have some good-natured fun with you and your lovely bride. Don't ruin the mood by being a spoil-sport, Ranger."

The Man of Mystery merely nodded his head and I suddenly thought about my ruined pajamas, but decided not to mention them just yet. Instead, I said to the older woman, "Ella, you are so good to me! I'm honored that you see me as a daughter, but I hope that we'll become good friends, too. I'd really like to spend some girl-time with you and get to know you better, especially since we'll be the only females living in the building for a while. Perhaps we could go out shopping _**together**_ sometime next week."

She beamed at me, "It would be my pleasure, Stephanie!" Then she bowed her head slightly and returned to her husband in the conference room.

"Girl-time, huh?" Ranger said, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Hey," I shrugged, "You don't fool me one bit. I know that you intend on torturing me with exercise sessions and weapons training and Spanish lessons and, to top it all off, a friggin' healthy diet. I need to get Ella on _**my**_ side ASAP."

"Babe," Ranger replied. "In case you haven't noticed, Ella's already on your side. Remember those Butterscotch Krimpets in your suitcase?"

"You mean the ones you ditched on the plane ride to Miami?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. "How could I forget? You _**owe**_ me, Mister 'Our-bodies-are-our-temples' and you'd better believe I intend to collect."

He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned evilly at me. "Oh, yeah? And how do you think you'll accomplish such a task?"

"I have my ways," I shot back. Of course, I was totally bluffing and he knew it, too.

"Hmm," he mused. "Just for the record, Babe, your body _**is**_ a temple. And I intend to worship it day and night for the rest of our lives."

Oh boy! I almost tackled Ranger to the ground and made love to him right there in the hallway. We had controlled ourselves during the party; kissing for the audience of our friends, but nothing more. Sadly, the two pieces of wedding cake I had consumed were no match for the pre-menstrual horniness I was battling. Thankfully, Ranger had unlocked his office door and the motion-sensor lights automatically turned on, which surprised me enough to keep me from giving the guys on the security camera monitors the show of a lifetime.

Ranger let the beginnings of a smile play across his lips as he ushered me into his office and locked the door behind us. I was all over him in an instant and our clothes hit the floor in record time. We practically fell onto the long leather sofa in a tangle of arms and legs. All of the tension from being on our best behavior at the party flew away as Ranger made good on his promise to worship at the 'Temple of Stephanie' and he truly made me feel like a goddess. Afterward, we lay there panting until our breathing returned to normal.

"Dios, Babe!" Ranger's voice sounded husky as he whispered into my ear. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted us to do that?"

"All night?" I guessed.

He shifted off of my body and turned toward me until we were face to face, with me nestled between him and the back cushions of the couch. It was a tight fit, but quite nice. In fact, our cozy position gave me an idea that we should keep a spare blanket and some other necessities down here for future opportunities.

"Longer than that, Babe. Much, much longer. I've wanted to have you on this sofa since the first time you ever visited my office," Ranger said and he glanced over his shoulder to look at certain spots around the room. "_**And**_ against that wall over there _**and**_ next to the window _**and**_ on top of my desk. I've built up quite a catalog of fantasies over the years."

"Hmm," I replied, following his gaze. "Maybe we should just camp out in this office for a while so that we can, um, explore these fantasies of yours. Do you think anyone would notice if we didn't come out of here until tomorrow?"

"Probably."

"Hmph! The people in this building are far too nosy."

"Babe."

"Oh, look!" I exclaimed as I noticed the pile of boxes on top of Ranger's desk. "Presents!"

Ranger sighed when he realized that he no longer possessed my undivided attention. We disentangled ourselves and put our clothes back on. Then we walked over to the desk. Sure enough, there were several gifts – some wrapped nicely and others looking almost pitiful – spread out across the flat surface.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. "Look at all this stuff. The Merry Men really love us." It really was interesting to see that most of the packages on the desk were rather bulky and oddly shaped. I got the distinct impression that there wouldn't be any gifts of china place settings or crystal candy dishes from _**this**_ crowd.

"We haven't opened them yet," Ranger said skeptically. "And Stephanie, you don't know my men the way I do. It wouldn't surprise me if one or more of these gifts aren't exactly what you'd expect for a wedding present."

"Can we open them now?" I knew I sounded like a little kid on Christmas morning, but I didn't care.

Ranger gave me one of his 200-watt smiles and said, "Sure, Babe. We can do whatever you want. You go first; pick one and let's see what it is."

The largest gift was also the worst-wrapped of the bunch; so naturally, I chose to open that one first. The card taped to the outside said that it was from Vince, Benny, Roy, Junior and Manny. Considering the tensions between Vince and Manny earlier during the party, I wondered if they'd had an argument while they were wrapping this lopsided package, too. Actually, I was quite impressed with the gift, but Ranger shook his head when he saw what it was – a set of very expensive, very impractical black silk sheets.

"Very nice," I said.

"I don't know, Babe," he said. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Pftt!" I scoffed. "What bad feeling? This is a wonderful gift! Your men know that we've got to sleep on something, right? Besides, _**I**_ think silk sheets are very sexy, don't you?"

Ranger gazed hungrily at me and said, "Babe, if you _**really**_ want to spend the rest of our first night back home here in my office, I won't complain, but if this gift is any indication of the other ones, _**I**_ think there's gonna be trouble on the mats tomorrow morning. We have so little privacy as it is, so hope you'll understand that I'm not wild about my men imagining what we'll be doing between these sheets."

I hastily dropped the package of silk bedding back onto the desk and said, "Moving right along – it's your turn to pick one now."

He chose one of the few nicely-wrapped presents, which was a gift from Bobby and Vivian. When Ranger read the card aloud, we discovered an additional note from Vivian tucked inside which stated that she'd had nothing to do with choosing the non-clothing part of the gift. As soon as the glossy white wrapping paper fell to the floor, I could see why she had written such a thing.

The gift consisted of two boxes. One contained a set of DC Comics Justice League character pajamas for us: actually, there was an extra-large T-shirt for me with Wonder Woman charging out in front of all the other superheroes and there was a pair of cotton boxer shorts for Ranger which had the words "Super Powers" embroidered into the waistband. I instantly loved them! The other box was a humongous carton of triple-extra-large-sized condoms with the words "Have fun!" and "Be safe!" scrawled all over the container in bright pink Sharpie™ marker. It was funny and scary at the same time.

"I thought you said you shoot blanks," popped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

Ranger narrowed his eyes at the boxes and said in a low voice, "I do. Ever since … well, my time in captivity."

"So … is the 'Super Powers' thing some sort of inside joke, then?"

"If it is, then it's a new one on me," Ranger said, his voice suddenly sounding odd. Then he opened one of his desk drawers, pulled out an empty army-green duffel bag, and placed the silk sheets, the pajama shirt and boxer shorts and the carton of condoms into it. "I'm putting all of our gifts in here to make it easier to cart them upstairs," he explained.

Next, I picked up a fairly large and somewhat heavy box covered with gorgeous silver wrapping paper and decorated with silver and white ribbons and bows. It was from Ella and Louis Guzman, naturally. The gift included a lovely pineapple-themed table cloth with matching napkins and placemats, a beautiful pewter serving tray in the shape of a pineapple and a finely-painted door hanger with a pineapple on it. I was overwhelmed by such generosity.

Ella's accompanying note was both helpful and confusing. She wanted to respect our privacy, so she told us to use the door hanger as a way to let her know when it was alright for her to enter the apartment. She also said that she wanted to honor the importance of pineapples in our lives. Ranger merely shrugged at Ella's odd comment about pineapples and carefully placed the items into the duffel bag with the other gifts.

Several men from the different departments and work shifts had pitched in to buy group gifts for us, too. Frederick Rodriguez and the guys in the Sales Department gave us a set of silver salt and pepper shakers shaped as pineapples. Sybo Diaz and the rest of the night shift monitor crew gave us a top-of-the-line, high-tech electric stapler. When Ranger raised his eyebrow at me over this, I reminded him about the incident two weeks prior when I'd had a mishap with my cheapo desk stapler and Sybo suspected me of playing a practical joke on him. It wasn't a romantic gift, but I was going to enjoy using our new stapler very much.

The entire first watch gave us a set of costumes. Yes, costumes! There was a Batman ensemble for Ranger, of course, complete with an authentic-looking utility belt and hard plastic body armor. I couldn't wait to see him wearing it. There was a Wonder Woman costume for me, complete with a golden lasso and funky high-heeled boots. Both outfits were of the highest quality and I was looking forward to playing dress-up with my own personal Batman real soon. The card from the guys read, _"Sorry we missed you at Halloween this year, but now you'll be ready for next year's party!"_

I looked at Ranger and asked, "What did I miss? I don't remember being invited to a Halloween party here at RangeMan."

Ranger shrugged again. "Diesel and his cousin, Wulf, were in town at the time and you needed to focus. Besides, you were having monkey issues."

"Ah," I nodded. No need for further explanation. Diesel, Wulf and Carl the monkey and his little friends definitely had held my undivided attention throughout the most recent Halloween season.

The second and third watches must have pooled their money together in order to be able to afford the fantastic gifts they gave us. There were matching semi-automatic handguns, stun-guns, handcuffs, wristwatches and flashlights for both of us. All of the items were black, brand new and they were contained in matching carrying cases which looked almost like standard military-issue toiletry kits. Seriously, they did. It was all high- quality stuff, too. These guys' card stated that since we were Mr. and Mrs. Ranger now, they thought we really needed these stylish kits for our 'ready bags.' I asked Ranger about that and he just smiled at me.

"A 'ready' bag is just that," he said. "It's the gear and clothing everyone keeps packed up and ready to go at a moment's notice."

"So … I'll need to have one of these 'ready' bags, too?"

Ranger nodded. "When it's time to go, Babe, we gotta be ready to go. We can't afford to waste time scrambling around looking for stuff to pack up. Ella's been working on your gear for a while now."

"My … gear?" I asked, trying to ignore the goose bumps on my arms.

"I didn't want to get into this right now, but we may as well deal with it," Ranger sighed. "I'm pretty sure that we're going on a mission sometime within the next few weeks. The exact timetable hasn't come down yet, but we should know soon. It's important for us to be ready when the call finally comes."

"But … but what about our honeymoon?" I whined. "You promised me that we'd have a nice, long honeymoon after we finished with _**this**_ week's business and family obligations."

"And I'm going to keep that promise, Babe," he said quickly. "From the looks of it, you and I will be able to disappear together for a little while and then we'll handle the mission on our way back home. It'll be fine."

"Hmm," I said, suddenly skeptical. "Do you have any more unpleasant surprises up your sleeve tonight?"

"Well," he began, "Now that you put it that way, Babe, I may as well remind you that we have to be at the courthouse not later than seven-thirty in the morning."

My jaw dropped and I exclaimed. "Seven-thirty? But it's almost midnight right now! It's a good thing Ella got some decent clothes for me to wear to court. Jeez, Carlos, why do we have to be there so early? The first case of the day never goes in front of the judge before nine o'clock!"

"We need to meet with our lawyers first," he said. "There's some paperwork we need to sign."

"What kind of paperwork?" I asked, suddenly wary.

"Documents establishing your official, legal partnership in the RangeMan Corporation, powers of attorney, insurance forms, and things like that," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Legal partnership?"

Ranger closed the distance between us, encircled me in his warm embrace, and kissed the tip of my nose before he said in his very bad British accent, "Yes, Miss Doolittle, our legal partnership."

"Why, Professor Higgins, I don't know what to say!"I exclaimed and a giggled escaped from my throat. I stopped laughing when I saw the expression on Ranger's face. "Uh-oh. You're serious, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Very." He nodded again. "I meant what I said after we captured Cantrell. I want you to be my partner in every sense of that word and not just an employee or contract worker. And, starting tomorrow, we'll be well on our way to making our complete partnership a reality."

I felt my knees go weak and I was glad that Ranger was holding me up. "But, Carlos … are you really sure about this? What if your other partners don't want me? I mean, I was never an Army Ranger like the rest of you. Heck, we both know that I'm as far away from being military material as possible – even if I have the readiest ready bag in the building."

Ranger hugged me tighter and said, "Don't worry about that, Babe. Tank and I have been sending messages back and forth to our other partners - Sid up in Boston and Max down in Atlanta – all week long. After your participation in the Galarza case, Gonzo gave you his vote of approval, of course, and everyone else agreed to the new arrangement without any further discussion."

"You've been talking about me … behind my back?" I asked.

"We just want to make it official, Babe," he said, "_**before**_ this next mission. We'll make sure you get the additional training you're going to need so that you'll be able to travel with me on future missions."

"Oh boy! I … I need to sit down," I said weakly. "I didn't expect this. And I never would have guessed that you meant to make me an _**actual**_ partner in your business, Carlos."

"Even if you weren't my wife, I respect your intuition and your ability to piece things together enough to want you as my partner, Babe," he said as he scooped me up into his arms and then sat down in his comfy executive chair with me on his lap. "However, since you _**are**_ my wife now, I want us to enjoy _**every**_ aspect of our partnership – both public and private." Then we kissed for a while before returning to our presents.

Connie's presents were very cute and very similar to some of our previous gifts. She gave Ranger a Batman T-shirt and both boxers and briefs with the Dark Knight's Logo on them. She gave me a Wonder Woman T-shirt, as well as a matching camisole and panty set and she gave each of us our own superhero keychain and baseball cap.

As we unwrapped the last few packages on the desk, I began to understand Ranger's earlier skepticism. The table linens, serving tray and door-hanger from the Guzmans definitely were the classiest gifts of the bunch. After we placed Connie's superhero-themed items into the duffel bag, we detected more of raunchy theme among the remaining presents.

Tank's and Lula's gifts to us, which included a set of his-and-hers fuzzy handcuffs, as well as a bottle of cherry-flavored massage oil and a few other interesting toys, made me blush.. Yikes! Hector's gift to us was a book and DVD set of the Kama Sutra. Don't ask! Lester gave us matching his-and-hers edible underwear, one set was supposedly cherry-flavored and the other one was chocolate. Unbelievable! It seemed that there had been quite a field trip to the _Pleasure Treasures_ adult store while Ranger and I were away. I had started to feel more than little turned-on by now and I was glad that there were no more gifts for us to open.

It became obvious that I wasn't the only one turned-on by our cache of sexy gifts. Ranger lifted the hair off of my neck so that he could kiss the sensitive spot behind my ear. His warm lips gently worked their magic all across my neck and shoulders. At the same time, his warm hands traveled up inside my shirt to work a similar sort of magic under the fabric of my bra. If we didn't leave the office real soon, I knew we'd end up fulfilling another one of Ranger's fantasies, especially since the surface of his desk wasn't cluttered with our gifts anymore.

I reluctantly pushed his hand back down to my waist, leaned away from him and said, "Can we continue this upstairs? Honestly, if you plan on getting me up in time to go to court, we need to go to bed _**real**_ soon."

Ranger chuckled and gently slid me off of his lap. He stood and bowed and said, "Your wish is my command, Babe." Then he pulled me into a close embrace and whispered huskily into my ear, "But there _**will**_ be plenty of other opportunities for us to fulfill my desk fantasy. You'll see."

"Stop reading my mind!" I grumbled playfully. Then I began to straighten my clothes.

Ranger just chuckled and said, "Stop making it so easy for me to read your mind."

Then he fastened the duffel bag full of gifts, swung it over his shoulders and expertly positioned it onto his broad back. He looked almost like a military version of Santa Claus. As I followed him out of his office and into the hallway, my whole body started to hum with anticipation. The last time I'd spent the entire night in Ranger's bed in this building, we'd been interrupted by a phone call from my father who needed me to pick up one of his regular cab customers. From now on, though, there would be no such interference from Dad or anyone else in my family. And that happy thought put a big smile on my face.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Ranger's POV**

I wasn't joking with Stephanie when I told her that I had entertained several fantasies of making love to her in my office. Our time on the sofa was just one of many places I planned to fulfill my dreams and desires. And if she hadn't asked to go upstairs, sex on the desktop was going to be next on my personal agenda for us.

Still, it had been a long, tiring day and the next place I would make love to my wife was in my – no, _**our**_ - bed. In fact, by my reckoning, it was _**way**_ past our bedtime and we had a long day ahead of us. Like my Babe, I truly wished we could just fly away and go on our honeymoon immediately, but we needed to fulfill our responsibilities here in Trenton before we could fulfill our personal desires.

We quietly made our way out of my office and down the hallway. As we headed toward the elevator, we peered into the control room and all the guys on the monitors smiled knowingly at us. Obviously, they had observed the amount of time we'd been in my office and assumed – correctly – what we'd been doing. Stephanie waved at them and they all waved back. I raised my eyebrow at them and they all quickly returned their attention to their monitors.

The party clearly was over and the other women already had departed with their chosen men, but a few of the guys were still enjoying themselves in the conference room. Stephanie waved at them and they grinned back at us in what I thought was an odd manner. Suddenly, something felt 'off' and I wondered if Lester or one of the other jokesters had rigged the elevator to stall again. The entire exchange felt weird. Maybe it was time to start looking for a _**real**_ Batcave of our own.

"Babe, let's take the stairs," I said and I pushed open the door to the stairwell.

"You feel it, too, huh?" Steph whispered back at me. "I don't trust the elevator, either, especially after the last time when we got stuck in it. Your cousin is a great guy, but I'm too tired to deal with another round of Aerosmith or one of Lester's other smartass musical selections."

I led the way up the stairs and grinned back at her, "Now you're beginning to understand what I've been dealing with all my life. Between Lester up north and Gonzo down south, there's hardly ever a dull moment at either RangeMan location. I have to be vigilant all the ti—" The words died on my lips when I opened the door to the seventh floor hallway. White balloons floated and bounced out of the doorway toward us and it only took me a moment to realize that _**this**_ was the real reason for all the weird grins and smirks on the men's faces downstairs.

Stephanie came up behind me and peeked over my shoulder, "Uh-oh. Let me guess, the whole place is full of balloons, isn't it?"

I stood there for another moment, trying to control my anger. It was too damn late at night for this crap, especially when all I wanted to do was take my wife to bed! Then I turned toward the nearest security camera and said very calmly, "Gentlemen, you like fun and games so much? Fine. Expect lots more fun and games during your physical training sessions for the next few days, maybe even weeks. I know _**I'm**_ gonna have _**lots**_ of fun, 'cause we're gonna play _**lots**_ of games – _**my**_ games. Spread the word to everyone who's not on duty tonight to meet me in the gym tomorrow morning at 0430 hours. The last man to arrive gets to run an extra mile."

Then I drew out two of my knives, told Stephanie to cover her ears and I began to hack away at the knee-deep river of balloons. The noise was deafening, but Steph insisted on using her writing pen to help clear the apartment. Only our bedroom was completely filled up with the white orbs, so we pushed them down the hallway and into the living room area, popping as many as we could along the way.

The task was overwhelming and we finally gave up after about thirty minutes of poking and stomping. There were balloons and pieces of shriveled white latex strewn everywhere. I'm sure that Lester and his accomplices had a great time violating my personal space with such chaos. All I could think of was how much enjoyment I was going to get out of the next day's ten-mile run, extra calisthenics and, of course, my sparring match with Lester.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Stephanie's POV**

At first, I was content to let Ranger perform his 'Indiana Jones' routine with his double-fisted knife wielding. Even though he was only dealing with a bunch of balloons, my brave hero really concentrated on popping every single obstacle in his path. And let me tell you, watching Ranger's muscles flex and bulge was _**way**_ better than watching anything on TV. The sound was incredibly annoying, but the view was beyond outstanding!

It seemed as though the Merry Men must have bought out the entire stock of white balloons for the tri-state area. I finally couldn't stand still any longer, so I pulled a pen out of my pocket and began to help Ranger destroy the river of air-filled latex. Fifteen minutes into our balloon-popping marathon, I got a case of the giggles. I couldn't help myself. The whole thing was absurd. Within minutes, Ranger was chuckling, too, but I got the distinct impression that we weren't laughing for the same reasons.

It took us a quite a while to clear a pathway through all the balloons and afterward, I almost felt sorry for the Merry Men, especially Lester. It was probably a good thing that the jokester was one of Ranger's closest cousins or else he might not have been able to keep his job at RangeMan. And I really was glad that I was exempt from the early morning physical training sessions with the men. Despite all the laughter, Ranger had that deadly calm look in his eyes – the one responsible for many a criminal surrendering to his custody rather than trying to fight him.

Once we finished destroying a large portion of the balloons, we decided to push the rest of them out of the apartment, into the hallway and down the stairwell. I think that Ranger was tempted to fill up the elevator with the bouncy things and send them back down to the fifth floor, but then he decided against it. He already planned to make the men police up all of the 'strays' in the morning. With our luck, though, we'd probably find white balloons until Christmas.

The apartment was a mess! With all the little flickies of white latex everywhere, it looked like it had snowed all over the living room and kitchen and bedroom. Ranger looked exhausted and I'm sure that I did, too, but since he was such a neat-freak, I doubted that my husband would be able to sleep soundly with all this craziness in his private living space. When I started to pick up some of the pieces of popped balloons, Ranger growled at me to leave them alone. He told me that he had every intention of making the men clean up the mess – under Ella's watchful eyes, of course.

"Sorry, Babe," he quickly apologized. "I shouldn't have snapped at you; you're just trying to help."

"It's okay, Carlos," I said as I tossed a handful of balloon shreds into the kitchen garbage can. "Someday, we'll probably look back on this and laugh."

"Oh, _**I'll**_ be laughing tomorrow morning in the gym," he said grimly as placed the duffel bag full of wedding gifts on the sofa and then stood in the middle of the living room to survey the mess.

I walked over behind him and hugged him around his waist. "Don't be too hard on your men in the morning. You've been a real good sport all night, but the next time we elope, perhaps we should tell everybody what we're doing and where we're going and when we'll be back and everything." Then I squeezed him a little bit tighter and said, "Now, Carlos, take me to bed!"

He turned around in my arms to face me and whispered hoarsely, "I thought you'd never ask." Then he lifted me into his arms and carried me down the hallway to the bedroom.

"So, is this the 'private aspect' of our partnership?" I asked as he gently placed me onto the bed and removed my shoes and pants.

Ranger's answer was a long, deep kiss before he turned off all the lights and removed the rest of my clothes.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Ranger's POV**

We laid there in the darkness of the room, gasping for air with our arms and legs completely intertwined. I swear the earth moved again when we made love this time and I could hardly believe that this gorgeous, sensuous, and vigorous woman was mine forever. My men were going to pay dearly for every minute of time they had stolen from me this evening - time I could have spent in bed with my Babe instead of popping a bunch of damned balloons.

Stephanie sighed in contentment as her index finger drew lazy little circles on my chest. "Carlos, do you think it's possible to die from too much sex?" she asked.

"Babe."

She tapped my chest and said, "Listen, I know it's very late and we should be too tired to do anything except sleep, but that last time was … that was … oh, I don't even know how to describe what that was! All I know is that I want more and I can tell that you do, too. How can that be?"

"What's going on inside of that pretty little head of yours, Babe?" I asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "We've been going at it like crazy ever since we decided to get married and I still can't seem to get enough of you. I even had cake tonight, but it doesn't seem to matter. It's just … crazy!"

"Crazy in a good way?" I asked, hoping that she wasn't having any regrets.

"Oh, yes, it's definitely a good craziness!" Steph exclaimed and then she kissed my chest and hugged me tighter. "I _**love**_ being this kind of crazy with you, Carlos, but … it's also a little … scary."

"Don't be afraid, querida," I said, returning her hug. "My love for you grows only stronger and more complete with every minute that we're intimately bound together. You're everything I've ever wanted in a woman and you're way more than I deserve. I love you more than my own life, Stephanie. If that's crazy, then I want to be completely insane for as long as we both shall live. Don't you?"

Silence. I hadn't expected silence, but Stephanie didn't reply - not even with a nod or a shake of her head. Instead, I felt a drop of warm liquid trickle onto my chest and I heard her sniffle. When I shifted so that I could look into her eyes and saw that she was crying.

"Stephanie? Babe? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong, Carlos. It's just that you ... what you said … it was so ... so _**beautiful**_." And then the tears came down her face more steadily.

I kissed away her tears and discovered that they tasted almost sweet. Believe me, I've dealt with Stephanie's tears before, but those had been tears of fear or anger or sadness, and they definitely had tasted bitter and salty. Now, I noticed the small smile on her face and realized that these had to be happy tears. That's why they tasted different to me. Nevertheless, this was getting a little too mushy for me.

"Are you having one of those emotional girly moments again?" I asked, trying to sound light-hearted.

Steph nodded and swiped at the lingering wetness on her face. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I think it's getting close to, you know, that time of the month and everything is making me all emotional and girly."

I chuckled. "Don't be sorry, Babe. I like the fact that even though you can tackle a grown man just like Superman, you're still my Wonder Woman at heart. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Really?"

"Really."

Then I kissed her forehead and cheeks before claiming her mouth and then her body once more. It was the best feeling in the world to know that when I woke up, my Babe would be right there next to me again. I don't remember what time it was when we actually fell asleep, but I knew that I was going to be in rough shape when I met the men down in the gym. Perhaps Lester was right after all; Stephanie _**was**_ going to wear me out. Ah, but what a way to go!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Stephanie's POV**

Damn! I knew I'd had too much to drink at the party and my full-to-bursting bladder woke me up in the middle of the night to take care of business. At first, I tried to ignore the increasing pressure, but it was no use. If I didn't head to the bathroom immediately, Ranger was going to have quite the rude awakening and I was going to be quite embarrassed by it. Moving as slowly as I could, I slid my body away from Ranger's and then hurried to answer Nature's call.

It was a good thing that I had gotten up when I did. The bad news was that my period had arrived. The good news was that I still had a small stash of personal hygiene products squirreled away in the bathroom from one of my previous overnight stays at the apartment. After I took care of everything, I popped a couple of Tylenols in anticipation of the cramps which were sure to come along very soon and stay with me for the rest of the day. Then I crept back into the bedroom, hoping against all hope that I could get enough sleep so that I wouldn't look like a complete wreck in the morning.

Ranger eyes were still closed and his breathing remained deep and steady as I slipped in between the soft cotton sheets next to his warm, relaxed body. The display on the bedside clock read three-forty-five and I knew that he would have to get up soon anyway so that he could head downstairs to meet his men in the basement gym. Since we wouldn't be having any actual intercourse for the next few days, I decided to reciprocate the sensuous "wake-up call" Ranger had given to me when we were in Florida.

In anticipation of what I planned to do, I applied a generous layer of lip balm to my lips and rubbed lotion into the palms of my hands. I was ready to bring my man to wakefulness in one of the most intimate ways possible and I was looking forward to driving him wild with passion in the same way that he had done to me. Unfortunately, I didn't get very far before Ranger's whole body tensed up and he threw off the covers in surprise.

He pushed me away from his body and sat bolt upright. His eyes were wild with fright as he cried out, "No, El Lagarto!"

This caused me to scramble to the edge of the bed and yelp in fear, "Carlos, what the--?"

I never got to finish my question because he suddenly clamped his hands around my wrists to prevent me from reaching for him again, even though I had absolutely no intention of doing such a thing. Ranger's eyes were glassy and unfocussed for a moment - as though he didn't recognize where he was - but then he shook his head quickly and tried to clear his thoughts. I must have whimpered, because he suddenly realized that his iron grip was hurting me. Ranger's face had a pained expression and then he let go of me as though I was made of hot coals.

"Carlos, what's wrong?" I wailed.

"Stephanie? Babe? Oh, God! I ... I'm so sorry," he said in an anguished tone of voice and then he vaulted himself out of the bed.

Now I was upset, too. "What did I do? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no! It's not what you ... it's just that he ... I ... Dios mio!" Ranger cried and then he disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

I'd never seen Ranger - my Cuban Sex God, my Wizard, my _**Batman **_- run away from anything, but it was obvious that he had just fled from our bed. Something was terribly wrong and I knew that _**my **_actions had triggered it. I could hear him coughing and retching behind the closed door and then I heard the toilet flush. Finally, I recognized the sound of water running and a toothbrush scrubbing vigorously. The only thing I could do was turn on the bedside lamp and wait for him to emerge from the bathroom to explain what had happened.

"Are you … all better now?" I asked Ranger when he finally opened the door and entered the dressing room.

He silently shook his head and began to dress for his workout. When he had finished tying his running shoes, he leaned against the doorway of the dressing room and stared at me with a haunted look in his eyes. Rarely had I seen him look so pale and exhausted. Usually, Ranger only looked this bad when he thought I had been in grave danger or after he'd been searching for me because I'd been kidnapped or held hostage or some other bad situation. And I'd never known him to vomit – _**ever**_.

"Should I call Ella?" I asked him hesitantly. We both knew that our resident medic, Bobby, was at the beach with his girlfriend for the rest of the week. "Perhaps Ella should bring you something – a Tums™ or maybe some Maalox™?" I stopped speaking when he walked out of the bedroom and glanced over his shoulder at me.

"I have to go, Babe," Ranger said, his voice sounding as haunted as his eyes looked. "The men will be expecting me."

"Wait!" I exclaimed. I jumped out of the bed, pulled on my robe and ran down the hall after him. "Carlos, you can't just leave like this! Something's terribly wrong and we need to talk about it!"

His hand was on the doorknob, but he hesitated and turned back to face me. "Stephanie, I ... I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, but I can't talk about this right now. I think I was having a … a nightmare or a flashback or …something. I never meant to hurt you, it's just that ... I didn't realize that it was _**you**_ and not--" Then he let the sentence trail off.

I remembered what Ranger had yelled out just before he woke up. Strange thoughts drifted into my mind about some of the details Ranger had told me concerning the time Colombian rebels had captured him. What if the things their awful leader - a criminally insane and sexually twisted scientist - had done to Ranger had messed him up so much that he couldn't stand for anyone to touch him in certain ways? What if _**my**_ actions had just triggered those terrible memories?

A name suddenly came to me. "El … Lagarto?" I asked Ranger. "This is all because of that crazy Colombian bastard who tortured you and your men, isn't it?"

Ranger's sharp intake of air was almost like a full gasp and he asked, "H-how did you know about my … my nightmare ? And how did you know that it was about … El Lagarto?"

"You yelled out his name when I … when I touched you," I admitted. Then I took a deep breath and ventured further. "Carlos, you probably don't even realize that every time I've attempted to try to make love to you, you do something to take control of the situation. You're always able to distract me with your kisses and touches and you always end up on top of the situation - both literally and figuratively. Now that I think about it, I'm convinced it's all because of that horrible maniac's torture and abuse of you. It's as though you _**can't**_ allow me to initiate or take control of our love-making.

If it was possible for the expression on Ranger's face to become more anguished, it did as he tried to apologize, "Babe, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"

I interrupted him, "I'm not blaming you, Carlos! It's not your fault what that evil monster did to you. All I'm asking is that you stay here with me now so that we can figure this out together. Call in sick or something. The men will understand. Just … please don't go downstairs like this!"

He shook his head and replied, "I can't stay, Babe; it's not safe for you. _**I'm**_ not safe enough to be around you right now - certainly not after what I almost did to you."

"But Carlos--" I tried in vain to argue with him.

He lowered his head and opened the door. "I gotta go, Babe. We'll talk … later." And then he was gone.

Ranger was in trouble. I didn't have to be a psychologist to understand that my touch had caused him to freak out this morning. Ranger once had informed me that he was damaged - he'd even warned me that he was 'sick' in several important ways - and now I had irritated one of his invisible scars. A cold shiver of fear rippled down my spine as I realized that we were about to go through our first major test as a married couple and neither of us had even seen it coming.

I knew from having worked with a few battered women in the past - like Lula and like one of my college roommates who had been dated-raped back before that became an official term - that memories of violent personal assaults could trigger the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. I also knew, from working with some of Ranger's men, that a lot ex-military people suffered from PTSD, especially the ones who had been to war. Unfortunately, many of them avoided beneficial counseling because they didn't want to appear to be weak in any way.

At first, I didn't know what to do next. There was no doubt in my mind that Ranger would need professional help to overcome his current condition. I just stood there behind the closed door of the apartment, frozen in place. It was four-thirty in the morning and my sleep-deprived brain barely was able to process what had just happened, let alone figure out a short-term solution to get us through the day. As muddled as it was, my mind raced through a half-dozen possibilities and I rejected all but one. I hated to do it, but I picked up the phone and called for help.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Ranger's POV**

I am a fool! Even worse, I am a _**damned**_ fool for dragging the woman I love into my personal hell. I had been so intent on quickly making Stephanie Plum a permanent part of my life that I hadn't even considered how this part of my FUBAR past might cause serious trouble between us. Sure, I had given Steph a brief overview of the events that had happened back in El Lagarto's lair in Colombia, but I should have taken the time to tell her _**all **_of the gory details, especially because they now had come back to haunt me in the worst way. Someday, I would be free from the unwanted presence of El Lagarto's ghost in my life, but today was not that day.

To be fair, though, I had no idea that Stephanie's well-meaning and sensuous touches would trigger memories of a time I never wished to revisit. The nightmare seemed to be so real that when I felt her hand sliding down around me, it was as though I'd been transported back to El Lagarto's torture chamber and the terror was fresh again. If I hadn't recognized my surroundings so quickly, I seriously might have hurt my Babe. The look of fear and of horror on her face when I clamped my hands around her wrists, ready to break them in the next moment, was enough to make me vomit - and I did. Then I had to stay in the bathroom for a while until I regained control of my thoughts and actions.

When Stephanie ran after me in the hallway of the apartment, all I wanted to do was tell her that I had made a serious mistake by marrying her so quickly, but I knew she'd never understand such words. I also knew that she already felt responsible something that was in no way her fault. Damn! If only I had proceeded much slower with Steph, she might have been able to make a more informed choice before she married me - but I had been too impatient to wait for that. Now it was too late and I had almost physically hurt the person I loved the most.

I turned and hurried away from my Babe as though her life depended on it. And in some ways, I suppose both her and my future really did depend on what would happen in the next few hours. I realized that I needed to tell her the whole truth immediately upon my return. But I also knew I had to talk to somebody first. What if Steph decided that she couldn't handle being married to such a damaged soul? I wouldn't blame her if she left me and I certainly wouldn't try to stop her. Not now, anyway.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Tank's POV**

After closing my cell phone, I stared at the gym floor and sighed tiredly. I was proud of Stephanie for making the call that had to have been difficult for her to make so early in the morning. However, I was angry at Ranger for putting his new wife in a position where she'd felt she had no other choice but to call in the cavalry, so to speak. Crap! The day hadn't even started and I already knew it was going to be a brutal one.

Carlos Mañoso and I have been to hell and back together. I've seen him at his best and I've seen him at his worst. We've been through firefights, fistfights and all kinds of urban and jungle warfare situations and taken care of each other through it all. We've also survived some of the most harrowing experiences that men can endure. As soon as I saw Ranger's face when he entered the gym, I had no doubts that my best friend had somehow landed back in some level of hell again.

Having received my advanced warning, I knew to watch Ranger like a hawk. Our military training has given us the skills necessary to keep our faces expressionless most of the time. Fortunately, I've had many years to perfect the art of reading Ranger's moods and this morning, the tightness around his eyes and mouth told me that he was not a happy camper. Stephanie had been vague as to the nature or cause of their argument, but it was plain to see that my best friend was in big trouble. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to warn the other men to go easy on the jokes before our boss entered the room and crossed over to stand in the center of the mat.

"Hey, everybody! Look who finally decided to show up!" Santos quipped and he stepped closer to Ranger on the mat. "Since you're the last man to arrive, Ranger, does that mean _**you**_ have to run the extra mi--?"

Santos never finished asking his smart-ass question. In four swift martial arts movements, Ranger silenced the man and laid him out flat on his back, gasping for air. Clearly, our leader was in no mood for humor of any kind. No one else dared to say a word while Santos slowly struggled to get back up off of the floor. His face was a sickly pale color and he appeared to be in some serious pain.

In fact, Santos held his side and let out a stream of profanity in Spanish as he addressed Ranger again, **"Alright already! I'm sorry about last night! I apologize for … _**everything**_. Damn! I think you cracked some of my ribs, cousin."** Then Santos cursed some more and hobbled over to sit down on one of the workout benches.

Benny Barrato, who'd had a little bit of medic training back when we were on active duty, broke ranks to attend to Santos. Everyone else stared straight ahead, not exactly looking at our boss. That is, everyone except me, of course. I was the only one who maintained direct eye contact with Ranger and I stared coldly at him until he finally blinked. Then Ranger pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration and shook his head in disgust at himself. .

"Barrato! Take my motor-mouthed cousin to the ER and get him checked out. Call me once you know what the deal is," Ranger ordered. "The rest of you are dismissed to work out on your own. No slacking!" Then he turned to me and said, "My office. Now!"

No surprise there. We took the stairs, two at a time, up to the fifth floor and went straight in to Ranger's office. At first, he sat behind his desk, but he quickly got up and paced back and forth for a while before he stopped in front of the large glass window and stared out into the still-dark sky. I sat down on the couch and waited for him to calm down enough to speak. It seemed like half of an hour passed before my friend uttered a word.

"I really screwed up this time," Ranger finally said, still staring into the dark.

I resisted the urge to nod my head in agreement and said without any emotion, "I'm listening."

"I never should have married her, Tank," he said, sounding like he was a thousand miles away. "I've just screwed up her life and I don't know what it's going to take to fix this mess. Stephanie deserves better."

"That _**could**_ be true," I said, "Except, you're forgetting one thing."

He glanced over his shoulder at me and asked, "What's that?"

"Stephanie _**loves**_ you, man," I told him. "And the love of a good woman is some powerful stuff. Never doubt it. You'll work this out."

Ranger shook his head and quietly said, "She'd probably be better off with someone else – someone whose head is not as messed up as mine."

"Ranger Mañoso, that's a load of crap and you know it!" I growled, using one of his former military titles. "I don't think you realize just how lucky you are. Almost every man in this building would gladly trade places with you, but Stephanie Plum loves _**your**_ sorry ass and she married you in spite of all your obvious shortcomings. Now that she's your wife, _**no**_ _**one**_ will disrespect that, so don't you disrespect it either."

"I … I almost hurt her this morning, Tank," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I held her wrists in my hands and I was ready to … to break them."

"But you _**didn't**_," I firmly reminded him.

"No, I didn't," he admitted. "I ran away from the situation, came downstairs and nearly tried to kill my cousin, instead. Damn! My head is so messed up I can hardly think straight!" Then he thrust his fingers though his hair in frustration.

"Okay, Carlos," I said, hoping to calm him down. "Let's forget for the present moment that I don't have a license to shrink your head, okay? I mean, we could call Doc O'Neill, and he'd be on the next flight up here. You know he'd do anything for you, but so would I. I'm here for you, man. Always have been, always will be."

Ranger went back to his desk and plopped down in his large, executive chair. "Don't call the doctor yet," he said as he massaged his temples with the tips of his fingers. "He'll be here on Monday, anyway, and I … I need help _**right**_ _**now**_, Tank – before I go back upstairs to Stephanie. There's too much going on today for me to stay freaked out much longer. Hell, we've got to be in court in less than three hours.

"Why don't you back up and start at the beginning?" I asked. "What, exactly, happened between you and Stephanie this morning to set you off? When I saw you walk into the gym, your face looked like you'd seen a thousand ghosts."

"It was only one ghost, but that was one too many." Then his voice dropped down to a whisper. "It was Eduardo Lagos, El Lagarto."

A heavy silence settled in between us as I processed the absolute horror of El Lagarto's ghost rising up to haunt Ranger in his marriage bed. When Bobby and I rescued our leader from the hellish torture chamber in Colombia, we saw firsthand the effects of what that sick madman had done to Carlos Mañoso in his efforts to break his spirit. A lesser man would have crumbled under the abuses El Lagarto visited upon Ranger's body, but the fact that he still was mostly sane was a testament to his strength and resilience. Unfortunately, to the best of my knowledge, my best friend had refused additional psychological counseling regarding his ordeal when he transitioned out of the active duty Army. Clearly, that had been a mistake.

I sighed and said, "Listen, Ranger, you and I both know that you need _**real**_ professional help to deal with this matter once and for all. The best I can do for you right now is to listen and try to understand. I'm willing to make a suggestion or two, but you've got to promise me that you'll talk to Doc O'Neill about this … episode and do whatever he recommends after that – including therapy. Understand?"

"Hooah." Ranger nodded solemnly and said, "I promise, Tank; I'll do whatever it takes. I don't want this to happen again. I _**can't**_ allow it to happen again." Then he explained the events of the morning, including the details about his horrific nightmare and how Stephanie had unwittingly triggered such a violent reaction from him.

"That's … not good," I said after he finished talking, "Not good at all."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But Stephanie already figured out that it's all connected to my time in captivity. Her intuition and her ability to remember details and fit them together scare the crap out of me sometimes. It took her less time to get inside of my head than the weeks it had taken Dr. O'Neill to deal with my PTSD back during my recovery phase after you guys rescued me out of that torture chamber."

I nodded, not wanting to remember that terrible day, but seeing it in my mind's eye anyway. "Your Bombshell BEA is quite a woman, that's for sure," I told him. "Like I said before, she loves you, and knowing Stephanie, she'll do whatever it takes to help you. So … what do you want to do next?"

"I have to go back upstairs and try to smooth things out," he replied. "I just hope she'll be in the right frame of mind to listen to me after I walked out on her like that. She was right; you know. I _**shouldn't**_ have gone down to the gym. Now Lester will have to be on light duty until his body is back to normal and it's entirely my fault."

"Hey! Santos is a big boy and he'll be fine," I reminded him. "He knew he was baiting you. Besides, you've whupped his ass worse than that several times over."

"Yes, but never in anger like today," Ranger replied. "All I felt was this incredible rage toward El Lagarto and I took it out on one of my own men, my own flesh and blood, even. How messed up is that?"

I sighed. "Ranger, Eduardo Lagos is dead. We all made sure of that fact before we left Colombia. What I still don't understand is why that bastard has returned from the grave to haunt you now? I mean, did you ever have an episode like this when you were with … um … any other women?"

He shook his head no, but I had difficulty believing him. Ranger might be a total badass, but he was just as capable as the rest of us mere mortals of going deep into denial. Seriously, though, my friend needed to face up to the reality of his situation and deal with the truth of his condition before he could return to Stephanie and try to work things out with her. With all that in mind, I made another attempt at getting Ranger to open up about his previous sexual encounters.

"Well, what about all the times you and Stephanie have been together?" I asked. "Weren't there any warning signs when she touched you like that before this morning's encounter?"

Obviously, Stephanie's well-meaning and loving actions had triggered in Ranger an episode of PTSD. In the dream-state of his sleep-deprived condition, he had thought that his torturer was handling him, and not the woman he loved. There was no simple or quick solution to this problem, but we needed to come up with something which would allow Ranger to patch things up with Stephanie now so that they could get through the days ahead until the doctor returned.

Ranger's face had darkened and for a moment I thought he was going to explode at me for asking such intrusive questions, so I tried to take the edge off by offering my observations. "Look, Ranger," I began slowly, "I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but I know that you and Stephanie have been hopping in and out of each other's beds now for the past two years. Anytime she and the cop broke up, she'd be right back with you – which is where she's always belonged anyway - but that's beside the point. What I'm hoping to get at here is the trigger. We need to figure out why, after spending all this time together, Stephanie's actions suddenly sent you off the deep end today. Did she do something, _**anything**_ differently than she ever did before?"

Ranger silently stared at me for a while and then he took a deep breath and let it out before he spoke. "Tank, you know I trust you with my life, as well as my secrets. What I'm about to tell you is the God's-honest truth and it _**cannot**_ leave this room. No woman –not even Stephanie – has touched me like that … since … since Colombia. No hand jobs, no blow jobs, nothing of the sort."

"Uh-huh," I said skeptically. "And I suppose you just think happy thoughts in order to produce samples for the Doc to be able to run his tests, right?

"That's completely different," he replied. "I've always maintained total control in those kinds of self-inflicted situations."

"Wait a minute!" I protested. "I've _**seen**_ you disappear with women – lots of women, including Stephanie – and then return to duty looking pretty damn satisfied."

His eyes narrowed slightly and he said, "I'm a selfish bastard, Tank. I only took what I needed from those women and then moved on. If you'll think back for a moment, you'll realize that no one ever spent the whole night with me; no one ever appeared next to my side more than once and no one _**ever**_ stayed in my apartment, until Stephanie Plum tripped her way into my life. And as for hopping in and out of bed with her, well, we mostly just … slept. Until last week, we'd only had _**one**_ night of sex and that was almost two years ago."

"_**One**_ night," I repeated, trying hard to believe what I'd just heard. I still couldn't wrap my brain around the idea that my old friend Ranger, a man whose sexual prowess was legendary, had been living a near-celibate life for the better part of the past two years.

"I know, I know," he said tiredly. "You and all the other men think that we've been having all sorts of fun up on the seventh floor for a long time, but it just isn't so. Like it or not, Stephanie was amazingly faithful to Morelli – at least when it concerned actual intercourse. Sure, I'd poach a little here and there, but something would always happen to prevent us from going very far. I can't begin to tell you how many cold showers I've taken since I allowed myself to fall in love with Stephanie."

"Cold showers?" I shook my head in mock disgust and said, "We _**all**_ thought you were getting plenty of good nookie upstairs. Damn, Ranger! You're rotten, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know," he said and half-joked, "That's probably why I'm being punished now."

"Don't go there, man," I said sternly. "You are _**not**_ being punished. In fact, despite all your rottenness, you have a great woman - one who loves you in ways you probably haven't even figured out yet. And no matter what you say about when you started having regular sex with Stephanie, you've been having the kind of sex life that most men can only dream about."

Ranger pressed his lips together into a thin line and then said in a very controlled voice, "But at what price? Before I left the seventh floor this morning, Stephanie told me something about our sex life that took me completely by surprise. I had no idea how much I dominated our time in the bedroom."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know I'm a control freak," he said. "But in my defense, I think that whatever I've done, I've probably done it subconsciously. Unfortunately, the overall effect has been such that _**today**_ was the first time Steph ever … the only time she was able to … to try to make love to me."

"You're kidding!" I exclaimed, but quickly saw by the expression on Ranger's face that he most certainly was _**not**_ kidding. "I'd have turned into a raving lunatic by now if I had tried to go without good lovin' for such a long time. Maybe that's part of your problem, too. You know what the doctor said about that."

Ranger looked confused. "What the doctor said about what?" he asked.

"Damn!" Realization hit me like a ton of bricks and all I could do was shake my head in true disgust at my failure to keep my boss fully informed. "Remember how the Doc came through Trenton last week while you were in Florida?"

"Hooah. I remember the text message you sent to inform me about his unexpected appearance," he said.

I scratched my head and continued, "Well, he gave us some advice that I didn't pass on to you, primarily because I figured you were already following his guidelines without knowing about them directly.

"Explain."

I counted off the doctor's recommendations to us on three fingers. "Get lots of rest and relaxation. Maintain a healthy sex life. And eat lots of fresh tropical fruits, especially pineapple for its special enzymes."

"Okay, I give up. What the hell are you talking about now, Tank?"

"They're the basis for Doc O'Neill's latest prescription for healing our bodies of El Lagarto's poisons and boosting sperm production," I explained. "Apparently, those three things are the magical combination that worked for Silvio and his wife. Didn't he tell you about all that when you were down there at the office in Miami?"

"No. Silvio didn't say anything about his sperm count and I didn't ask. His pregnant wife looked very healthy and he looked very happy and that's all I cared to know." Ranger said, sounding slightly annoyed.

I apologized. "Sorry, boss. I should have told you all the details earlier. There's more good news for us up here, too. The samples that the doctor took from us last week all showed signs of having some swimmers in them. That's why some of the guys are getting serious about the women in their lives now. You probably noticed that Vince is finally going after Connie from the bonds office."

He nodded. "Hooah. And Manny almost caused a problem with that situation last night."

I continued, "Bobby took Vivian to the shore for a romantic getaway so that he finally could propose to her, even though she's still got another year of med school. Even Roy is thinking about marrying his live-in girlfriend. Who knows? Maybe when the Doc is here next week, you'll receive some good news, too, Ranger."

Ranger abruptly stood up and walked around his desk to stand directly in front of me. "Are you telling me that Dr. O'Neill has seen evidence of viable sperm in everyone's samples from last week?" he asked, his voice sounded agitated again.

"Hooah," I replied, a little defensively. "Not that it matters for me and Lula, but even I had some swimmers. The Doc told us that they weren't moving as fast as they need to for optimal fertilization, but at least our bodies seem to be producing them again."

Ranger definitely looked and sounded agitated as he asked, "And the reason you failed to pass this information on to me is … what?"

I quickly gave him a standard military avoidance answer, "No excuse, sir!"

Ranger sat down on the couch next to me, dropped his head into the palms of his hands, and groaned. At first, I had no clue about what could possibly be wrong now, but then a funny thought occurred to me. I hesitated to ask another question about his newlywed lifestyle, but then I decided to open my big mouth anyway.

"You and Stephanie have been practicing safe sex, haven't you?" I asked half-jokingly.

He shook his head without looking up. "No."

I let the silence hang there for a few beats and then I said, "Dr. O'Neill is cautiously optimistic. He's not saying that everything is back to normal yet, but he hopes that someday soon, we'll be free to have families – or not. At least we'll be able to make our own choices. Anyway, you're married now, so if anything happens, you're good to go!"

Ranger answered me with another groan and then said, "I really wish _**somebody**_ had told me about all this 'good news' much sooner."

I shrugged and said, "I had no reason to think that you were flying around without a safety net, so to speak. And since you and Stephanie were already in Florida, I figured you were doing exactly what the doctor ordered."

"What gave you that impression?" Ranger asked.

"Oh, come on!" I said, trying not to sound too defensive. "From all accounts, you two had a great time in Miami. You slept in late on the seventh floor of the Biscayne building and stood up poor Danny Cruz one morning, so I'm assuming you got plenty of rest. You went fishing off the _Batcave_ and stayed at your uncle's place, so I know you got plenty of relaxation. Ella made phone calls down to Rosie and to your grandfather's chef, so I know they fed you all the right foods. And then, to top it all off, you eloped with the Bombshell BEA! I'm telling you; when I stood up next to you at your wedding, I could feel the good-nookie vibes rolling off of both of you. Don't be mad at _**me**_!"

Ranger lifted his head and smiled slightly for the first time all morning. Then he said, "Gonzo's got a big mouth, but, yeah, Steph and I _**did**_ have an awesome time while we were down in Miami."

Smiling back at him, I punched his arm and said, "See? When you stop to think about it, Doc O'Neill's prescription was unnecessarily redundant for you, Ranger. In fact, you've probably been following doctor's orders much better than the rest of have been doing since he issued them to us."

Ranger shook his head and said, "Let's just hope I haven't made you an uncle before your time, old friend."

"Uncle?" Now I was confused again.

"Yeah, if Stephanie and I ever have any kids, I'm gonna declare you to be an honorary uncle." Then his smile widened and he said, "_**Now**_ I think I understand the reasoning behind some of our more _**unusual**_ wedding gifts."

My face got hot when I remembered the gifts that Lula coerced me into giving with her. "About those … um … items from me and Lula; I just want you to know that they weren't my idea."

Now Ranger barked out a genuine laugh. "Tank, I've never thought of you as a gadget man. The guns and regular handcuffs are more your style, but those _**toys**_ you two gave us were classic Lula all the way. And I can guess how she persuaded you to put your name on the gift card with hers."

"Yeah, well, you know how it is," I mumbled, momentarily embarrassed by the whole thing. Then an off-the-wall idea entered my mind and I explained my thoughts to Ranger.

"You really think that'll work?" Ranger asked.

"Maybe," I shrugged again. "But don't try anything until tonight. I'll be staying in Bobby's apartment overnight so that you can call me if anything goes wrong. Of course, there's no guarantee of success, but even if it does work, you're not off the hook for therapy. Got it?"

He gave me a mock salute and said, "Aye, aye, sir!"

"Smart-ass!" I replied "When Doc O'Neill finds out that I've been playing amateur head-shrinker again, he's probably gonna kill us both for being so stupid."

"Thanks for helping me, Tank," Ranger said as he rose up from the sofa and stretched. "I appreciate everything you've done for me this morning."

"Anytime, old friend, anytime," I said and stood next to him. "I know you'll do the same thing for me if the need arises. But I'm warning you, Ranger, if you freak out again, I'm calling the Doc immediately – no arguments, no excuses. Agreed?"

He nodded. "Agreed."

Then we clasped hands and pulled together in a brotherly hug before we walked out of Ranger's office together. Hal was walking down the hallway to bring us the message that Santos would be okay. None of his ribs were broken, but two of them _**were**_ dislocated and severely bruised, and we winced at the news. Dislocations could hurt just as much as fractures and it would take some time for the injuries to heal completely. Ranger was going to owe his cousin big time. Still, it was good to know that Santos was basically fine.

As soon as Ranger stepped into the elevator, I called Stephanie to let her know that he was on his way up. I quickly told her about what happened in the gym and then I assured her that Santos was going to be just fine. "Go easy on Ranger, Stephanie," I told her. "He feels very, very bad about what happened, but I think he really wants to work it out with you. … Yes, but he was only trying to protect you. … Okay, you're right and he knows that. ... Fine! But don't get distracted. … I'm just sayin'. … Remember, we all still have to be at the courthouse at seven-thirty. … Yeah. … You're welcome. … Me, too. … Bye!"

Yep, Carlos Mañoso was a lucky man and I hoped that everything would work out fine for him and Stephanie. Since it was only 0600 hours, I went back down to the gym to do an abbreviated workout. After taking a quick shower, I went back up to my office and closed my eyes until it was time to go to court. It promised to be a long, grueling day followed by an even longer, potentially dangerous night, especially if my idea for Ranger and Stephanie wasn't successful. All I could do was be patient and wait.

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**Ranger's POV**

I opened the door to my apartment and placed my keys in the tray as usual. The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted me, but not my Babe. That was a little disappointing, so I went into the kitchen, poured a large mug full of coffee and drank it black. The hot liquid felt great as it flooded my system with its much-needed caffeine. I waited to see if Stephanie would join me in the kitchen, but the apartment remained very quiet and I was left alone with my heavy thoughts.

White balloons still bounced and floated around, cluttering the floor in every room and hallway. Kicking several balloons out of my way as I walked down the hallway, I decided to go directly into the bathroom to take my shower. When I was done, I stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped around my waist and took a moment to observe my Babe. She was all curled up under the covers, but I did not for a minute believe that she was asleep.

"Thanks for making the coffee," I said, not moving from my spot in the doorway.

Stephanie opened her eyes and asked me, "Feeling any better?" When she lifted her head from the pillow and smiled at me, my heart filled with something that felt a lot like hope.

"Somewhat," I replied casually. "Did Tank call you?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"What did he say?"

"He reminded me that we have to be at the courthouse at seven-thirty."

"And …?" I walked over and stood at the foot of the bed.

"And he said that I should go easy on you."

"Will you?"

"I'm thinking about it."

I grinned. "If you let me slide into bed next to you, I'll help you decide."

Steph's smile faded just a little, but she lifted the covers for me anyway. I dropped the wet towel and climbed into bed next to her, wrapping myself around her as I settled in. She was wearing one of my T-shirts for pajamas again and I decided that I'd make it a priority to order a new set of those sexy pink pajamas for her before the day was over.

"Mmm," she said as she cuddled her face against my chest and took a deep breath. "I love the smell of warm Ranger in the morning."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her comment, even as my body responded to hers. I wanted to make love to Stephanie right then, but I knew we had several important things to discuss before that could - or should - happen. Sighing inwardly, I resigned myself to just holding my wife in my arms and I tried to think of what to say first. Stephanie beat me to it and her words took some of the wind out of my sails.

"Down, boy!" she said and placed her palm against my chest. "I started my … um … I got cramps this morning, so it's a good thing we had such a great time in Florida and down in your office and here last night. It'll be a few days before we can … you know."

For some reason, that news flash was very comforting to me. For once, Nature's timing had worked out in my favor and I was relieved to know that I hadn't unwittingly impregnated my wife. I wasn't quite ready to discuss the possibility of having any children with Stephanie at this time, especially since my head was still so messed up. Now there would be a little breathing room and I'd have the chance to speak face-to-face with Dr. O'Neill before Steph and I talked about our options.

Deciding to open with an apology, I spoke softly to her, "I'm sorry you're not feeling so good right now, Babe. I'm also sorry for walking out on you this morning. That won't happen again."

"I love you, Carlos," she replied, hugging me closer to her. "And I forgive you. Tank explained to me that you really were trying to protect me."

I shook my head. "Nevertheless, it was the wrong thing to do, even though my motive was right."

"It sounds like you had some sort of flashback this morning," she said. "I'm sorry that my … actions caused that to happen."

"Stephanie, you don't have to apologize for trying to make love to me – ever," I said. "It might take me a while to work on the reasons for my reactions to your touch, but you had no way of knowing that your actions could transport me back to a time and place I never wish to relive."

"Wait a minute," she said, sounding a lot like Tank, "Haven't you ever dealt with this sort of thing when you were ... um ... intimate with other women?"

My jaw tightened involuntarily and I replied, "I told you, after Julie was born, there weren't any other women. At least, there were none who lasted longer than a one-night stand."

"That's ridiculous!" Steph scoffed. "Carlos, you're a sex magnet. I've seen women falling all over themselves to get into your pants. And you're a … a studly man, too. How can you expect me to believe that no other woman has ever tried to make love to you in all this time? What about Rachel?"

I shook my head. "Babe, the fling between Rachel and me happened long before the mission to Colombia. And, remember, we never lived together under the same roof. Our brief marriage was only a business arrangement for Julie's benefit. Other women came and went and they knew that they would never have a relationship with me. I always was in control and I always moved on as quickly as possible."

"Including with me," she said sadly.

"Only at first," I reminded her. "But, Babe, you've got to believe me when I tell you that you're the _**only**_ woman who has spent more than a single night in bed with me since El Lagarto put his hands on my body. I'm just beginning to understand how deeply his actions have been influencing my behavior all this time. Stephanie, I want to break free from my tormentor's lingering chains once and for all. Will you help me?"

"Carlos, you're my husband," she replied. "Of course I'll help you!"

"Thanks," I nodded. "I've been afraid that you might not want to stick around and take a chance on being burdened with a loco husband. I know it took me a while to figure things out, but when I finally did, I realized I just couldn't stand it if you got back together with Morelli again, and I--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" she interrupted me. "Am I supposed to be _**flattered **_to learn that part of the reason you married me so quickly was to prevent me from going back to Morelli again?"

I sighed and rolled away from her. "That didn't come out the way I meant it to, Babe. I wanted you to marry me, because I love you. Period. And this morning, I thought … well, I thought that what I had done was unforgivable. I never want to raise a hand toward you or grab at you in anger ever again and I promise that I _**won't**_ do those things to you ever again."

"I believe you, Carlos; I really do," she said, "But I'm still trying to figure out how you could go along for all these years, giving women - including me - the big 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am' version of love, and you didn't realize that you wouldn't be able to allow a woman to make love to you without you flipping out over it."

"I don't know," I admitted and I continued to stare up at the ceiling.

She sat up half-way and leaned on her elbow so that she could gaze down into my eyes."So, what you're telling me is that all this time, you've really had _**no **_idea about the magnitude of your PTSD or your control issues?"

"No, I didn't realize that my PTSD symptoms could be so intense, but I have always admitted to being a control freak," I said. "Stephanie, I swear that _**nothing**_ like that has ever happened to me before, so I didn't know what to do afterwards. I honestly was afraid that if I stayed here in the apartment with you, I'd end up hurting you badly."

"Like with Lester?" she asked.

"Tank told you about that, too, huh? What else did you two discuss while I was in the elevator?" I was trying not to be annoyed about that, but my voice betrayed me.

"Don't be angry, Carlos," she replied, "I called Tank first - right after you left me this morning."

I sighed again. "You did the right thing, querida. I was out of control and … and, unfortunately, Lester paid the price."

Steph chuckled and said, "Well, your cousin did deserve a _**little**_ bit of pain. Those stupid songs of his keep replaying in my mind and I can't get them out of my head. And the apartment reeks of busted balloons! We have to get this mess cleaned up soon or else move out until the stench is gone."

"Don't you worry about that," I said. "I already left a message for Ella and everything should be back to normal by the time we get back from the courthouse."

Stephanie groaned and rolled away from me, "Speaking of the courthouse, I'd better get up now. It's going to take longer than usual for me to get ready."

"Why?" I asked.

She got out of the bed and walked toward the bathroom. Before she closed the door, she turned to me and said, "Carlos, look at me! I've hardly had any sleep over the past two days, so the bags under my eyes have bags under them. My hair looks like a squirrel's nest. My skin is all blotchy from the Florida sun. And I feel bloated and yucky. In short, I feel like hell and in order for me not to look the way I feel, it's going to require extra time in front of the mirror, extra mascara and extra coffee. In fact, I probably should be mainlining coffee right now; otherwise, I don't know how I'm going to make it through this day."

"Babe." What else could say?

She closed the bathroom door and I heard her turn on the shower. Then she yelled through the door, "And a donut or two or _**ten**_ would be nice."

"That stuff'll kill you," I yelled back at the closed door.

Stephanie and I still had to discuss a lot of important things, but at least it felt like we were going to be okay for the time being. We just had to make it through the day and then we could talk about Tank's idea for our "do-it-yourself therapy session" tonight. That thought put a smile on my face again and I went into the dressing room to get ready. Then I made another fateful decision. Calling down to the control room, I asked for a volunteer to go on a very special mission. I needed someone to go out and get some donuts for my wife - ASAP!

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A/N: This was a tough chapter to write. I had created the rough outline for it long ago, before many of the other chapters ever came into existence, but it was difficult to fill in all the actions and reactions and dialogue. I'll be adding some more photos to my album for this story soon and I hope you'll check them out. It was lots of fun "shopping" for all the wedding gifts that the RangeMan crew gave to Ranger and Stephanie and I was able to find a lot of great images to help you see what I've described above. Please let me know what you think about all this. Thanks! :D


	26. Chapter 26

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: I've always wondered about Ranger's parents and how they might view their son's secretive ways. So, I decided to take the action into their home this time. Sorry about the lack of photo updates - for some strange reason, my Photobucket account is acting weird. Hopefully, I'll be able to put up the new pics soon. This chapter has multiple POVs. Enjoy!**

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"This is a scary neighborhood," I said, taking in the graffiti, the occasional condemned building, the sullen faces of the kids hanging on street corners.

_"I grew up here," Ranger said. "It hasn't changed much in twenty years."_

_"Were you one of those guys on the corner?"_

_Ranger cut his eyes to a group of teens. "Eventually. When I was a kid, I was little and I didn't fit, so I got beat up a lot. My skin color was too light for the blacks and too dark for the Cubans. And I had straight brown hair that made me look like a girl."_

_"How awful."_

_Ranger shrugged. "I found out I could survive a beating. And I learned to be quick, and to watch my back, and to fight dirty."_

_"All good skills," I said._

_"For street thugs and bounty hunters."_

"_I thought you lived in Miami for a while."_

"_When I was fourteen I got arrested for stealing a car and spent some time in juvie. When I got out, my parents sent me to Miami to live with my grandmother. I went to high school in Miami. I moved back to Jersey to take a shot at college, and then I came back when I got out of the army._

_Ranger found a place at the curb in front of a deli. "My parents live on the next block," Ranger said. "This neighborhood we're in right now really isn't so bad. It's actually the Cuban equivalent of the Burg. Problem is, you have to go through the bad neighborhood to get anywhere, including the school."_

_Twelve Sharp_

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Chapter 26: Mama's Boy

Even though she was nervous and wasn't feeling at her best, Stephanie did great in front of the judge. Those punk kids who robbed my clients were doomed once my Babe took the stand. I was so proud of her when she explained how she figured out that the young thieves had placed hidden cameras at the locations where they performed their robberies. Even the defendants' lawyers seemed impressed by the way she answered all of their questions. Once again, my Babe didn't disappoint.

I wasn't the only one who was impressed by Stephanie's uncanny ability to see things that everyone else missed. I recognized the faces of a few federal agents in the courtroom, including one of the men from whom I usually received my contract assignments. He knew of Steph's role during the time when I was a fugitive after Edward Scrog kidnapped my daughter and I was certain that he already had heard of my Babe's involvement in both the Cantrell and Galarza cases. When we made eye contact, he nodded toward her and smiled, which told me that he approved of her. Not that I needed his approval, mind you, but it was nice to know that my handlers probably wouldn't complain too much when I started bringing Steph along on future missions.

After the courtroom proceedings were over, Stephanie popped a few more painkillers to alleviate her cramps. Then she quickly excused herself and headed for the ladies' restroom. I truly felt sorry for my Babe, but there wasn't much that I could do in this situation. While I was waiting for her to return, Tank pulled me aside and asked me how well she and I were holding up after this morning's traumatic episode.

"We're okay, Tank," I tried to reassure him. "But as for tonight's 'therapy session,' we're going to have to put your ideas on ice."

"Hey, man," Tank began to protest, "You promised-"

I cut him off, "And I will, but not until sometime next week. Stephanie is … indisposed."

"Indisposed?"

"Yeah. You know, it's that monthly thing women go through," I said, not wanting to explain any further.

"Oh," Tank nodded his understanding and his brown face turned pinkish with embarrassment.

I stared at a spot on the wall and said, "I'm gonna wait until Steph feels better.

"Hooah. (_Translation: Fine by me_.)," Tank replied with a shrug. "I'd rather that you talk to Dr. O'Neill first, anyway. We both know you still need professional help."

I considered this for a moment and then shrugged, too. "That's true, but I liked your ideas. Maybe I'll ask the Doc what he thinks about them."

This got a smile out of Tank and he said, "You just want a good excuse to play with all the fun stuff Lula and I gave you."

I nodded. "That's true, too."

Before I could say anything else, my cell phone vibrated against my side and I winced when I saw who it was. Tank glanced over my shoulder at the display and winced, too. It was my mother. My close friends had known my family long enough to understand that Mama _**never**_ called me unless I was in trouble with her and I could think of several things which might have caused her to dial my number, not the least of which was my recent elopement. Tank slowly began to back away from me, shaking his head in sympathy, but abandoning me anyway. Then he hurried to catch up to Hal and Ramon and the other guys who also had been called upon to testify against the thieves and they all exited the building.

"Coward!" I scoffed at Tank's retreating back and then I flipped open my phone. **"Hi, Mama,"** I answered her in Spanish, trying to sound casual. **"What's up?"**

Not surprisingly, my mother sounded upset. **"Don't you 'Hi, Mama' me, Ricardo Carlos Mañoso! Do you have any idea how many phone calls I've received over the last few days? No, of course you don't! How would you like it if _**your**_ father called you and told you all these fantastic things about your child's new spouse and all you could do was pretend that you knew what he was talking about? It's a good thing that your cousin, Pedro, sent me that DVD of your wedding photos or else I would know _**nothing**_!"**

**"Mama, if you'd just let me explain-"**

She cut me off and continued to rant at me in rapid-fire Spanish. **"Honestly, Carlos, how could you sneak off and get married like this? I can't believe you did this to me _**again**_! Everyone is congratulating me on finally marrying off my only unmarried child and asking all sorts of questions that I can't begin to answer. I insist that you bring your Stephanie up here to have supper with us tonight so that your father and I may meet her and become better acquainted with her. I assure you, I am _**not**_ going to be embarrassed at your grandmother's party tomorrow night by not knowing _**anything**_ of importance about my son's new wife!"**

**"Mama, you already met Stephanie,"** I gently reminded her. **"Remember? She was there when you came to the hospital to get Julie after I was shot. You and Papa had a nice little chat with her before you took Julie home with you to wait for her parents to arrive."**

**"You _**know**_ that doesn't count!"** She said firmly. **"Back then, Stephanie Plum was a wonderful and brave woman who helped you find and rescue our precious Julie after that madman kidnapped her, but now … _**now**_ she's your wife, Carlos, and I don't know nearly enough about her!"**

I grinned and replied, **"She's still a brave and wonderful woman, Mama."**

**"Don't sass your mother, young man!"** She said and I knew that my luck had almost run out.

Stifling a groan, I answered, **"I'm sorry, Mama. When I spoke to Stephanie about coming up there to Newark this evening, she reminded me that we had already committed to having dinner with _**her**_ parents tonight. However, we can be there early tomorrow, before the party begins. In fact, we could come with you to pick up Grandma Rosa on the way to the party and that should give _**all**_ of you enough time to get to know her a little better."**

I almost could feel my mother's frustration building up across the airwaves as she mulled this over her in her mind. Finally, she angrily exclaimed, **"Carlos! Have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how much work there is to be done before this party? No, of course you don't! Your brother and sisters are helping out as much as they can, but not _**you**_. You're just planning to show up at the party with your new wife in tow, relying on your charm to smooth things over with your grandmother and me. I know how it is with you, my son – you've always been Rosa's favorite grandson, just as you were with my mother. Well, your charms aren't going to work on us this time. I don't care what hour you arrive or even how long you stay, but you and your wife absolutely must come here before tomorrow!"**

I glanced at my watch, blew out a sigh and said, **"Alright, Mama. What if Stephanie and I came up now and had lunch with you, instead? Would that be satisfactory?"**

**"Yes, that would be fine,"** she said too quickly. "Of course, your father and grandmother will be here, too."

**"But it's only going to be the three of you, right?"** I asked, suddenly wary. **"Please keep it small, Mama. Don't let Celia or any of my other sisters stick their nosy noses in."**

**"What if they're helping me cook for tomorrow?"** Mama asked, trying to sound innocent, but not quite succeeding.

**"The party is being catered, so you'd better not let anyone eavesdrop on us from the kitchen,"** I said firmly. **"I promise you, Mama, if anyone else is there when we arrive, we'll turn around and leave right away. Stephanie's not feeling well today and I don't want to overwhelm her with the entire family rushing to meet her all at once. They'll get their chance tomorrow night."**

My mother seemed to consider this for a moment and then she replied, **"I see. Well, then, do you think your new wife will like my cooking? Since she isn't a Latina, I wouldn't want our Cuban food to upset her stomach."**

I rolled my eyes. **"Stephanie loves food, Mama – especially if it's fried or loaded with sugar. She ate everything Rosie and Túlio prepared for us down in Miami, so I predict that she'll enjoy whatever you're making for lunch, too,"** I said. **"Just remember, she and I will have to leave Newark in time to make it back to Trenton by six o'clock, so don't go overboard on the food. And other thing – you know my wife doesn't speak Spanish yet, so I would appreciate it if we spoke only English in front of her, okay?"**

**"Your Grandma Rosa won't like that," she replied.

"Mama, everybody knows that Grandma Rosa understands English perfectly well. She's just too stubborn to answer in English and we all let her get away with it."**

**"Mind your manners, Carlos!" Mama sounded angry again. "We'll do as you wish for today, but I want you to promise me that you'll teach your wife and then your children to speak Spanish as soon as possible."**

**"But Mama, we aren't-"**

*"No 'buts,' Carlos!"** My mother was adamant. **"Do you want your little part of the family to be culturally handicapped when you bring them to visit with us? Our heritage is strong – and bilingual. Just teach them Spanish, Carlos; you know it's the right thing to do."**

This was not the time or place to continue such a discussion, so I mumbled something that I hoped sounded sufficiently compliant to my mother to get her off of the subject for now. When I saw Stephanie walking down the hallway toward me, I rushed to end the phone call. Promising my mother that we would see her very soon and that I was looking forward to our visit, I disconnected and slid my phone back into its clip on my belt. Of course, we both understood that I was lying through my teeth.

"Babe," I said and I kissed her lightly on her lips. Then I dragged her behind one of the stone columns and kissed her properly. Both of us were breathless when I finally released her and asked, "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes were closed and she was smiling at first, but then her expression changed and she grumbled, "Truthfully, I feel very bloated and very … very blah."

"Blah?" I asked.

"Yes, blah," she opened her eyes and sounded exasperated with my lack of understanding her. "I really need a nap!"

I shook my head in sympathy and informed her, "There's been a change of plans. You can sleep in the car; you're good at doing that, anyway."

She squinted up at me and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Newark."

"Why?"

"Damage control."

"Whoa! You lost me there, Ranger," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What are you talking about now? Did something go wrong with the Cantrell case?"

"No, nothing like that," I quickly assured her.

"Then what?"

"My parents want to meet you - _**now**_," I replied. "Well, mostly my mother. She wasn't happy when I informed her that we couldn't come up there for dinner tonight, so we're going to my parents' house for lunch. We need to leave ASAP, especially since we have to be back here for dinner with your folks at six."

Stephanie's eyes got wide and she whispered, "Omigod! It's beginning already!"

"What's the matter, Babe?" I asked, suddenly alarmed by the way the color had drained from her face.

"Family tug-of-war," she replied glumly. "It's when both families start fighting over a newly-married couple and they try to make reasonable compromises, but just end up not pleasing anybody. Dickie and I went through a few rounds of it during our fifteen minutes of marital non-bliss and it really sucked. You hardly ever talk about your family, so I honestly didn't think it would be an issue for you and me. Guess I was wrong."

I was quiet, not quite sure what to say. I had answered her questions about my family when we were in Florida, but we'd really only scratched the surface. Stephanie had met a small fraction of my relatives in Miami and that was almost too much for me to handle. Obviously, the days of fiercely guarding my privacy were over, and now that we were married, it was going to be nearly impossible for me to shield my Babe from my family's Cuban equivalent of the Burg.

I sighed inwardly and said, "Listen, Steph, the only reasons we came back from Miami so quickly were to deal with the business here at the court this morning and to attend my Grandma Rosa's birthday party tomorrow night. Now that everyone has seen the photos Gonzo sent out, they all want to meet you in person. I had hoped to protect you from the meddlers for as long as possible, so if you want to stay home, just say the word and I'll cancel everything else on today's schedule. We can stay inside the apartment for the rest of the day and order whatever you want for lunch and dinner."

"Hmm … that sounds so tempting," she said and then began to chew on her lower lip. "But what about our parents?"

"They'll get over it," I said with more confidence than I actually felt inside. "I'll make the phone calls and tell them that they'll see us when they see us. Simple as that!"

Stephanie tilted her head to one side, gazed up at me and softly said, "I love you Carlos." There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling, so I knew she was having another emotional, girly moment.

"It's settled then," I said, unclipping my phone from my belt. "I'll make the calls now."

Her hand shot out and covered mine before I was able to flip open the phone. "No, don't," she said. "It's okay. I appreciate the fact that you're willing to make those calls, Carlos, but the sooner we get this over with, better off we'll be. Let's just go on up to Newark for lunch with your parents and then come back down to Trenton for dinner with mine. Really, I'm fine with it."

I shook my head. "Babe, we don't _**have**_ to do this now. We're grown-ups. We're free to live our own lives."

"I know," she said with a deep sigh. "But our parents will keep hounding us until we visit them, so we really should do it now – before I change my mind."

So we went to the car – I was driving the Turbo today – and headed north. Stephanie fell asleep within five minutes of us merging into the highway traffic and I was glad for the peace and quiet during the rest of our journey. The drive to Newark gave me the chance to think through everything that had happened between us from the moment I woke up until now. I decided it was a good thing that Steph and I would need to take a break from all the great sex we'd been having for the next few days, or else I might have given in to my irrational urge to pack my bags and disappear into the wind. Thankfully, my Babe slept until I pulled up in front of my parents' house.

"Stephanie … Babe, wake up," I said as I gently shook her shoulder. "We're here."

She slowly opened her gorgeous blue eyes, smiled at me, and murmured, "Mmm … Carlos. I was having the best dream. We were on a beautiful, secluded beach and it was so warm and sunny."

"Sounds nice, Babe," I said as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll see what I can do to make that dream of yours come true very soon." And I leaned over to kiss her.

After we had steamed up the windows a bit, Steph glanced beyond me to the hazy view outside my window, wrinkled her cute little nose and said, "I see it's still cold and blustery here in Jersey."

I nodded and said, "It rained while you were asleep and the traffic slowed to a crawl, so we're a little behind schedule. How do you feel right now?"

"Groggy and bloated and frumpy," Stephanie groaned. "And I need to use the bathroom right away or else I'm going to spring a very embarrassing leak."

"Babe."

"Seriously, Carlos, it's almost an emergency," Steph said as she chewed on her lip, "Do you think it would be rude if I went straight to the bathroom as soon as we're inside?"

"It'll be fine," I said. "Let my mother know if you need any … ah, supplies. She's got four daughters and several granddaughters. I'm sure she'll understand."

Stephanie grimaced and closed her eyes and I knew that she was having another bad cramp. My heart ached to see her in such pain and I offered her another painkiller, which she immediately gulped down without any water. Both of us were tired and drained, but now Steph had this extra burden dragging her down, too. On days like this one, it's good to be a man. I shuddered as I suddenly remembered what life had been like in my parents' house when all of my sisters got cranky and mean at the same time.

Steph groaned and said "I can't believe I convinced you that we should do this today! Why did you listen to me? I don't think I'm ready."

Now it was my turn to glance over her shoulder to the scene beyond the passenger-side window and I replied, "Too late to turn back now, Babe. It's show time."

Beyond the safe "cocoon" of the Porsche, my parents were approaching us on the damp concrete walkway in front of their red-brick row house. The expressions on their faces were a mix of cautious happiness and intense curiosity. Actually, I was just as nervous as Stephanie was – maybe even more so. I knew what was most likely to happen during our visit and I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, either.

Sighing inwardly, I exited the vehicle and walked around to open the door for Stephanie. After she straightened her suit jacket and brushed imaginary lint off of her skirt, she placed her trembling hand in mine and I squeezed it to reassure her. My parents had stopped halfway between the car and the house behind them, where my Grandma Rosa was standing on the porch. At least everyone was smiling, which I took as a good sign as I led Stephanie toward them.

"It's good to see you again, Carlos!" Papa said warmly. "Welcome to our home and to our family, Stephanie!" And he extended his arms out to embrace us both.

"Yes, welcome home to you both," Mama repeated and she clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "We are so glad to see you again, especially since these are much better circumstances than when we first met at the hospital after Carlos … was shot."

Usually, my mother rambles on in the language of her birthplace whenever she's feeling emotional or upset in anyway. It was obvious that Mama wasn't happy with the memory of that difficult time in our lives, but at least she was speaking English in front of Stephanie. Elena was my only sibling who hadn't married someone of Cuban heritage; however, her husband was Puerto Rican, so it really didn't matter very much. Of course, my mother didn't consider herself to be prejudiced in any way, but I knew I'd probably have to endure an earful of her worries and complaints as soon as she could get me alone. For now, though, her smile for Stephanie was genuinely welcoming.

When my father released us from his embrace, he beckoned for us to follow him back to the front porch where I reintroduced everyone. "Stephanie, you remember my parents, Enrique and Gloria Mañoso."

"Please, call me Ricky, or Papa, if you like," said my father as he lifted Stephanie's hand to his lips. "Only my mother still calls me Enrique." He released her hand and my grandmother came forward.

"And this is my Grandma Rosa," I said. "Grandma Rosa, this is my wife, Stephanie Plum."

When Steph extended her hand, Grandma Rosa pulled her into a tight hug and vigorously patted her on her back. After Grandma released her, she took a step back and gazed at her with an odd expression on her face. Then she smiled widely, leaned forward and kissed Steph on both cheeks and turned toward my mother with a look of triumph in her eyes.

**"I _**told**_ you, Gloria! My Carlito has married for love this time!"** She practically crowed with delight.

**"You're sure?"** asked my mother in Spanish.

**"Absolutely!"** Grandma Rosa emphatically exclaimed. **"At least, I'm sure he didn't have to marry her because of a baby. In fact, she's having her monthly cycle now, so their honeymoon must have been a bust. Poor thing! Perhaps they'll be able to conceive the next time her womb is ripe."**

My mother gasped and so did I. When I turned to my father, I saw that he had covered his face with one of his hands in embarrassment. We both were appalled by the rude behavior of my mother and my grandmother. Thankfully, Stephanie couldn't understand what they had said, but I pulled her close to me to protect her from any further "examinations," anyway.

"We're leaving now," I declared in English, barely containing the anger in my voice. "Maybe we'll see you tomorrow night, but then again, maybe you won't. Just in case, I wish you a happy birthday, Grandma Rosa." Then I led Stephanie off of the porch and back toward the car.

"Carlos, wait!" exclaimed my father. I could hear him whispering harsh words to his wife and his mother as Stephanie and I continued to walk toward the car.

"Carlos, what just happened?" Steph whispered at me with a confused look on her face. "Did I say something wrong? What did I do?"

"You're fine, Babe. Just keep walking," I said calmly. "My mother and my grandmother just went too far. They need to know that I will _**not**_ tolerate such rudeness toward my wife."

She stopped in her tracks and pulled me to a stop as well. "I want to know what your grandmother said to upset you so much!" Steph demanded. "Well? Are you going to interpret for me or am I going to have to march back up there and find out for myself? Either way, we're not leaving on such bad terms, Carlos. And we're certainly not leaving until I get to use the bathroom!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep from yelling in frustration. When I could control my tone of voice, I explained, "Stephanie, my Grandma Rosa has an uncanny ability to sense the condition of any female's womb. In fact, she has accurately predicted the due dates of all my sister's children, even before their doctors gave them the official news. I had forgotten about her special talent until a moment ago, when Grandma announced to my parents that, not only are you _**not**_ pregnant, but also that you're having your monthly cycle right now."

"Omigod!" Stephanie gasped and her eyes flew wide open.

"Exactly," I replied. "It was extremely rude and I won't stand for it!"

Stephanie chewed on her lip some more and then she said, "Do you think we could call a truce long enough for me to be able to use their bathroom?"

"Babe."

"I'm serious, Carlos," Steph said, placing her hands on her hips. "Besides, I'm kind of used to Joe's Grandma Bella cursing my womb all the time, so this is a refreshing change of pace. Actually, I like the way _**your**_ grandma does things."

"What?" I couldn't believe she'd said that.

"Well, she gave me a big, warm hug and two kisses and she _**didn't**_ try to put the 'evil eye' on me for not conceiving a child right away," Steph explained. "So what if your grandma's not the most discreet person in the world? Can you imagine the chaos in the Burg if my Grandma Mazur had the same abilities as your Grandma Rosa? Jeez! No woman would be safe from her pronouncements!"

"Babe, no one in the Burg is safe from your grandma, anyway."

"Whatever," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "At least your grandma really seems to like me – and your parents, too. Let's go back, okay?"

"Babe."

"Oh, c'mon, Carlos! I'm sure your grandma meant no harm," Steph said. "Besides, I smelled something delicious back there when we were standing on the porch and now I'm _**really**_ hungry. And you know I still have to take care of …um, you know. Since I have to go inside anyway, why don't we just stay for lunch? Please?"

Naturally, I gave in. I never could refuse my Babe's pleading blue eyes. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that my mother and grandmother had gone inside. My father was standing there by himself, gazing at us with a pained expression on his face. Then _**he**_ mouthed the word "please" at me before he disappeared through the front door. Damn! I'd been double-teamed.

"Fine," I said grumpily. "We'll stay for lunch."

Steph smile up at me and said, "Thank you, Carlos. _**Now**_ can we go inside? I swear it's getting colder out here!"

I answered her with a nod and then led the way back up the sidewalk and onto the porch. As I ushered Stephanie into the house, a wave of comfortable familiarity washed over me. The smells of the meal my mother had prepared for us were the same as always: onions, peppers, tomatoes, and special spices from the Caribbean. These were the mouth-watering aromas with which I was raised. Stephanie's stomach growled and I was surprised that my stomach didn't answer hers with its own rumbling noises.

My mother liked to redecorate every few years, so the house didn't really look the same as it had when I was growing up. Still, all the rooms were laid out the same and I led Steph directly to the first-floor bathroom, which my father had installed as a sanity-preservation measure when he had a house full of teenagers and young adults. I called out to my parents to let them know that we were staying, but no one answered me.

As soon as Stephanie had closed and locked the bathroom door, I headed straight for the kitchen. It was time for me to set some boundaries for my meddlesome family, before any worse incidents of rudeness occurred toward my wife. The swinging door was closed and I could hear the distressed voices of an ongoing heated discussion in Spanish, so I stopped in the hallway to listen.

**"But what did you hope to gain by such antics, Gloria?"** my father asked tersely.

**"Information, Ricky, that's what!"** My mother replied stiffly. **"My nephew, Pedro, was so thoughtful in sending us the photos of Carlos' wedding, and we've all seen how good the newlyweds look together. But that's all we know about this relationship. I want – no, I _**need**_ to know more about the entire situation before I invest my heart in this Stephanie person."**

**"But, Gloria,"** my father said, **"Carlos loves Stephanie – anyone can see that. What more could you possibly need to know?"**

My mother hesitated before she spoke again and I wondered if she could tell that I was eavesdropping in the hallway. **"First of all,"** she said, **"how do we know they _**really**_ love each other? Carlos is very good at hiding his true feelings – even from himself. Second, what if they decide to move to Florida? I'll hardly ever get to see my grandchildren! Stephanie Plum isn't even a little bit Cuban, but at least her family is from New Jersey, so there's a glimmer of hope that she might want to live near her parents – whom we've never met, either. Ricky, you _**know**_ how much Carlos loves to be down in Miami with my father and his Suarez cousins. I'm afraid that he'll take his wife and child and stay down there forever. And last, but certainly not least, I wanted to know when their baby is due."**

**"Baby?"** Papa sounded confused. **"Gloria, what's all this concern about a baby? Why would you even think such a thing?"**

Mama explained, **"When Carlos called here this morning and said that his new wife wasn't feeling well, I knew right away that she must have been having a bout of morning sickness. Hasn't our son told us time after time that he'd never get married again unless he _**had**_ to do so?"**

**"Stop being so silly, Gloria!"** I heard my Grandma Rosa say. **"Like Enrique said, it's completely obvious that Carlos and Stephanie truly love each other. So what if they decide to live in Florida? You can visit! And I already told you; there's _**no**_ baby. At least, not yet. Don't go looking for trouble where there is none to be found!"**

**"You're one to talk,"** Mama scoffed.

Papa scolded, **"Gloria, that's enough!"**

**"I'm sorry, Ricky, but I _**have**_ to know more about this sudden marriage!"** Mama insisted and I could hear the anxiety in her voice. **"The last time Carlos got married, it was because of a baby! But he divorced his wife almost before any of us knew anything about the marriage in the first place. Oh my God, what a disgrace that was! They _**never**_ lived together and my selfish boy didn't even _**try**_ to love that poor girl. Now, I never get to see my granddaughter unless I make special arrangements while I'm visiting my family in Florida. Ricky, I have to find out as much as I can so that I can help Carlos stay married to his wife this time. I don't want for there to be another divorce, especially if children are involved."**

**"Oh, for the love of all the saints!"** exclaimed my father. **"Gloria, you have to stop trying to know every little detail of our children's lives! You can't control their actions. These schemes of yours _**never**_ work out the way you think they will and people's feelings almost always get hurt. Now, stop this nonsense at once!"**

Another wave of frustration washed over me as I slumped against the wall. Listening to my mother's comments, I realized that I was far too much like her. Obviously, my own controlling nature had given her a lot of reasons to doubt the sincerity and depth of my love for Stephanie, as well as to be suspicious about my recent actions. It was my fault that Mama felt compelled to make so many assumptions about my life. In my line of work, I had very good reasons for being so secretive, but it seemed that I now would have to "clean up" the mess I'd made of my relationship with my mother before it became much worse.

**"Do you know what hurts me the most?"** I heard my mother say in a trembling voice. **"Little Julie Martine – my granddaughter - doesn't even carry any part of _**our**_ family's name! And she calls her real father – my Carlos - by that Army name of his, 'Ranger.' I … I just can't stand it!"**

My mother's voice caught in her throat as she choked out the last few words of her sentence. When I heard her choking back more sobs, my heart broke just a little. The issues of Julie's name and of what she called me had been sore spots for my mother ever since my ex-wife, Rachel, married her current husband, Ron Martine. Mama was horrified when I consented to Ron adopting my biological daughter and legally changing her name to match his. I still believe that I did the right thing, but many of my relatives have continued to give me grief over it.

**"There, there, now, Gloria,"** said my father in a soothing tone of voice. I could imagine him holding my mother in a comforting embrace. **"This is nothing to cry about. Let's just be happy for Carlos and his bride because they are happy, alright?"**

**"But what about—?"** Mama tried to ask, but Papa shushed her.

I heard the toilet flush and quietly hurried back down the hallway before Stephanie emerged from the bathroom. My grandmother poked her head around the kitchen door and then turned back to inform my parents that we had come inside. Then all three of them bustled out of the kitchen to see us. There was an awkward silence when Steph opened the bathroom door and saw everyone standing there in the hallway, but then they all spoke at the same time.

"We're sorry we offended you," Mama apologized.

**"I'm so glad you came in from the cold,"** said Grandma Rosa.

"Are you staying for lunch?" Papa asked.

Steph looked bewildered, but I calmly answered, "Apology accepted. I think the outside temperature is dropping quickly. And yes, we _**are**_ staying for lunch."

The corners of my mother's mouth turned upward in a slight smile, although I could see that her eyes were still a bit red and puffy. She nodded her head and turned to go into the dining room. We all followed behind her. My father gave us a reassuring smile and I glanced down at Stephanie to see how she was holding up. It was plain to see that she was nervous and I couldn't blame her. This wasn't exactly how I had envisioned our first meeting with my parents, but I could only hope that things would get better after my mother calmed down.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Stephanie's POV**

Ranger definitely looks like his mother. As we walked down the hall toward the dining room, I glanced at all the family photographs hanging on the walls. It was easy to tell which child was Ranger – he was the youngest of Ricky and Gloria's six children and he was small and delicate-looking in most of the photos. He really did look like a girl until he was about twelve or thirteen, but by then he had learned to glare sullenly at the camera. There were several photos where Ranger was missing and then, there was one in which he was wearing his uniform. I barely kept myself from stealing that frame off of the wall.

Of course, I had noticed Ranger's resemblance to his Suarez cousins when we were down in Miami, but after observing the way he and his parents interacted with each other during our lunch, I knew for sure that my Man of Mystery was a "Mama's boy." Oh, he wasn't tied to his mother's apron strings or anything like that. It was just that his mannerisms definitely came from her, especially in the way that Gloria Mañoso almost smiled. Suddenly, I wondered if her mother, the late Abuela Blanca, had almost-smiled in that same way, too.

The lunch went pretty well, all things considered. Everyone was a little stiff and awkward at first, but we were able to relax once we started eating. It was obvious that Ranger's mother wanted to ask me a thousand questions, but her husband kept changing the subject every time things started to get the slightest bit too personal. I thought their behavior was a little odd, but then again, who was I to judge? I only hoped my own family would show a fraction of the restraint toward Ranger that the Mañosos had shown toward me.

The food was absolutely fantastic! There were these little meat-filled turnovers, which were called empanadas, and lots of yellow rice and that same beef dish, Ropa Viejo, which Rosie had made for us when we were in Miami. It was, of course, very difficult for me to control my ecstatic moaning while I enjoyed every flavorful morsel. More than once, I caught Grandma Rosa staring at me with wide-eyed wonder and I knew I must have been making too much noise with my food. Clearly, I amused her as much as I amused her grandson.

After we finished our dessert, I remarked that the Mañoso's home really didn't seem all that different from my parents' home. The interior layout was practically the same, except for the existence of the downstairs powder room. When we got up from the dining room table, I realized that the intricate carvings on the table legs looked very familiar. Ranger's grandmother perked up as soon as she heard me ask him about the origin of the table.

"Yes," Ranger replied. "My grandfather made this table, too. The table you saw in our Miami apartment is just a smaller version of this one."

Ranger's father seemed to have disappeared to another part of the house and his mother was busy taking our dirty dishes out to the kitchen, but she stopped in mid-stride and raised her eyebrows at Ranger's comment. I don't think he saw her, though, because he was busy explaining to his excited grandmother about our trip to Florida and all the different places where we had stayed while we were down there. Grandma Rosa's face lit up with a full-toothed grin. Then she started speaking to Ranger very rapidly in Spanish and he nodded several times before turning to me to translate their conversation.

"Grandma Rosa is pleased to hear that we had such a good time in Miami, and she hopes that we will take the time to visit with all the family here in Newark, too," Ranger said as he pulled me down to sit next to him on the living room sofa. "She also has invited us to stay at her home whenever our schedule permits. She has many other furniture pieces that my grandfather made during the course of their marriage. She would love to show you _**her**_ dining room set and we could sleep on the bedroom set in the guest room."

"Thank you, Grandma Rosa" I said to her, speaking very slowly. "I look forward to spending more time with you. Perhaps you can help me with my Spanish so that someday we won't require any translation services from Carlos."

Grandma Rosa, who was sitting in a comfy-looking armchair across from us, smiled at me, but she kicked Ranger's shin and he began to speak again. "Grandma also said that she wants to show you the cradle that my grandfather made. It was one of the few things they were able to bring with them from Cuba when they left. My father and all of his siblings slept in it when they were infants. Many of my sibling's children have slept in it, too. As soon as a baby is big enough to move to a regular crib, the cradle returns to Grandma's house for safekeeping until it is needed again."

"Oh, that's so sweet!" I said I said to her and she nodded and grinned back at me.

Then it finally dawned on me that Grandma Rosa was insinuating that she thought Ranger and I might need to use the family heirloom in the near future. Before I could say anything to put that idea to rest, Ranger's parents came into the living room and sat together on the loveseat in front of the window. They had finished cleaning up in the kitchen and now it seemed that they had something they wanted to say to us.

"Stephanie," Mr. Mañoso began, "I want to thank you again for convincing my headstrong son to stay and have lunch with me, my wife and my mother. I hope that we will see both of you tomorrow night at my mother's birthday party, too. It's not easy to get Carlos to do anything that Carlos doesn't want to do. Believe me, I know. And now, we understand that you must leave soon to have dinner with your parents. Please accept our heartfelt invitation to return to our home whenever you wish – with or without our son in tow. You are a member of our family now and you are always welcome here."

"Thank you," I managed to say as my eyes filled with tears and I felt another emotional, girly moment coming on.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Gloria Mañoso's POV**

**"He loves her,"** I whispered as I watched the fancy black car pull away from the curb in front of our house. **"My Carlos truly loves this woman he's married, this Stephanie Plum."**

My mother-in-law said, **"I told you so."** Then she went upstairs to lie down for her afternoon nap.

My husband, Ricky, waited until his mother had closed the guest room door and then he encircled me with his strong arms. **"What finally convinced you, my love?"** He murmured into my ear.

**"Everything,"** I replied and I relaxed back against his solid chest.

I loved it when my husband held me close to him like this. He was an auto mechanic and he hadn't allowed himself become flabby as we got older. If Ricky didn't have to return to the garage this afternoon, and if his mother wasn't upstairs in our house, I would have shown him just how much I enjoyed it when he held me this close. Ah well, I supposed I'd have to wait until bedtime.

**"Everything?"** He asked, sounding puzzled.

**"Yes, everything,"** I reiterated. **"The way Carlos allowed Stephanie to come into his life and into his business and into his personal, private dwelling spaces. Obviously, he has taken her all over Miami and it sounds like they will be doing a lot more traveling soon. The way he speaks to her and the way he's always touching her hand or her back or her hair is precious. But mostly, it's the way Carlos looks at Stephanie. His eyes caress her with his love all the time. The photos Pedro sent us simply don't do them justice. I've never seen anything like the way my Carlito gazes at his wife."**

**"_**I**_ have,"** Ricky stated as he softly nuzzled my neck.

**"You have?"** I asked. **"When?"**

He chuckled and said, **"Every time I catch you gazing at me, Gloria. Your eyes caress me in the same way that Carlos' eyes caress his wife. He is, after all, _**your**_ son, my love."**

**

* * *

**

A/N: Perhaps, Grandma Rosa will get her wish, but I'm not sure Ranger and Stephanie will need that family cradle any time in the near future. Incidentally, my paternal grandfather made a crib for my father and his siblings and then it was passed along as they had their own babies. My various cousins and I also used the crib for our firstborn children, but my husband and I were stationed too far away from home to get the crib when our second child was born. Again, I'm very grateful for all your encouraging reviews. Thanks for your patience as I slowly crank out each chapter update. Please continue to let me know what you think of my story. Thank you! :D


	27. Chapter 27

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: Originally, this chapter was part of the previous chapter, but then I decided that I wanted it to stand on its own. So I chopped it into two smaller pieces and renamed each part. I hope you'll like it. Again, there are multiple POVs. Enjoy!**

_

* * *

_

"Why me?" I asked. I realized I sounded like my mother and had a brief panic attack. I liked my mother, but I didn't want to

_**be**__ her. I didn't want to ever cook a pot roast. I didn't want to live in a house with three adults and only one bathroom. And I didn't want to marry my father. I wanted to marry Indiana Jones. I figured Indiana Jones was the middle ground between my father and Ranger._

_High Five_

* * *

**Chapter 27: Daddy's Girl**

**Ranger's POV**

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Stephanie said as we zoomed south on the highway toward Trenton. "Things went much better than I had expected, especially after we decided to stay. I even think your parents and Grandma Rosa really liked me."

I didn't answer right away. True, Stephanie and my parents really seemed to get along with each other very nicely and it was obvious that my grandmother already loved my Babe, too. It was just that I couldn't stop thinking about the terrible beginning of our visit when my mother and grandmother had almost ruined everything. I'd have to come up with a plan to maintain the tenuous boundaries we had established today, or else our time at my Grandma Rosa's birthday party was going to be pure hell.

"My whole family will love you, Babe," I said. "There's no doubt about that. I just have to figure out how to keep them from loving you _**to death**_."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Stephanie," I sighed. "This afternoon was merely a taste of what's to come. Tomorrow night, at my grandmother's party, all of my relatives are going to try to find out as much as they can about you. I don't want you to be overwhelmed."

Stephanie chuckled softly and said, "Sounds like _**you're**_ the one who's going to be overwhelmed. Remember? I'm from the Burg. _**I**_ can handle extremely high levels of nosiness."

I thought about this for a moment and nodded. "You're right. I don't like people sticking their noses into my business – especially my family."

"And yet," she said mischievously, "you have an awful lot of relatives on your payroll."

"Yeah, well, I might have to put a hiring freeze on that particular business practice.

Now Steph actually laughed aloud. "Carlos, if my Burg upbringing has taught me anything, it's this: you've got to feed your parents enough information to keep them off of your back. If you give them too much info, then they stay in your business all the time. If you give them too little, then they feel compelled to keep digging and digging until they discover whatever it is that they think you're hiding from them."

"I don't see where this strategy has worked all that well for you."

"That's beside the point."

"Uh-huh."

"Alright, Mr. Smarty Pants, how do _**you**_ think we should handle dinner with my parents?"

"We should go in with guns blazing and-"

She cut me off, "Ha, ha. Very funny. Seriously, Carlos, you know my mother already isn't happy."

"But your father seems to be on our side," I reminded her.

"Thank God for small favors!"

"I'd say that's a pretty _**big**_ favor."

"You're right," she said as she yawned. "Maybe we should just wait and see how the evening unfolds before we decide on our next move. I'll leave the details up to you." Then she snuggled down into the seat and drifted off to sleep.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

It seemed as though I had just closed my eyes for a moment when I felt Ranger gently shaking my shoulder. The Porsche had to be the most comfortable vehicle he owned and it lulled me to sleep every time I sat in the passenger's seat. I couldn't even remember whether or not I'd had any dreams during our drive from Newark back to the Burg. Sadly, the sound of steady rain splattering against the windshield made me wish that this was all a dream and that when I woke up, we'd be back in Florida.

"Ready for Round Two?" Ranger asked me as soon as I opened my eyes.

"Um … yeah, sure," I replied and I arched my back into a long stretch. "Just give me an umbrella and everything will be hunky-dory."

He chuckled. "You'd better stop lying like that, Babe. I know you too well by now."

I gave him a deadly Burg-girl glare and said, 'Well, I'm as ready as I ever will be."

He chuckled again and then peered through the windshield at the car parked directly in front of ours. "Do you know anyone who drives a black minivan?" Ranger asked as he nodded his head toward the vehicle in question.

"No, but it's only got temporary plates on it so … omigod!" I exclaimed and covered my mouth with my hands.

"What's wrong, Babe?" Ranger sounded like he was on full alert – as well he should be.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod! How _**could**_ she?" I felt like I was going to explode.

"How could who do what?" Ranger asked. "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

"It's Valerie!" I said through gritted teeth. "They said they were going to have to buy a new car – one that could accommodate all the car seats and baby stuff – and I'll bet that van is it! I'll bet that my mother invited Valerie over for dinner, too, and I'm sure that Albert and the kids are with her. I'm going to strangle all of them!"

"Even the kids?" Ranger said. His wide grin just made me angrier.

I glared at him again. "This is _**so**_ not funny! Do you have any idea how much of a fiasco this could turn into?"

"Babe."

"Don't you 'Babe' me about this!" I warned. "With Grandma Mazur still down in Florida, I thought we'd be evenly matched against my parents. Now, though, we don't stand a chance!"

"Hey, look at me, Babe," Ranger said in a low, soothing tone of voice. His fingers gently turned my face toward his until I was looking directly into his dark eyes. "If we stick together like we did at my parents' house, we'll be okay. It's just dinner. In a few hours, we'll be back on the seventh floor, enjoying a glass of wine and forgetting all about this long, long day."

"But Valerie and Albert and the kids-"

"Are not going to bother us tonight," he said. "If anything, they'll probably provide so many distractions that your mother won't be able to harass you for much information."

I blew out a sigh and nodded. "Okay. We'll give it our best shot. However, if mashed potatoes and green beans start flying through the air across the dinner table, we're leaving. I really like this suit that Ella picked out for me and I don't want it to get ruined."

"Do you _**honestly**_ believe that there could be a food fight tonight?" Ranger asked.

"Yes, I do," I nodded. "It's happened before - on several occasions."

"Babe."

Ranger was still shaking his head in disbelief when he got out of the car. Then he opened an umbrella and came around to my side of the car and protected me while I climbed out. We were hurrying up the sidewalk when my mother and Valerie stepped onto the front porch together. I stifled the urge to scream. Usually, my Grandma Mazur stood next to my mother, waiting patiently for my arrival. The sight of Valerie standing there was enough to make me hesitate before I allowed Ranger to escort me up the stairs and into the house.

"Stephanie!" my mother gushed as she hugged me tightly. "It's so good to see you and your new husband! My goodness, it's so wet outside!" Then she held me at a arm's length and looked me over. "My, my! Don't the two of you look so … so _**official**_ in your black suits? Surely you didn't get all dressed up for dinner with us, did you?"

I could smell the booze on her breath and my heart sank even lower. This dinner had "disaster" written all over it. I had to fight the urge to turn and run back to the car. Of course, it helped that Ranger kept his hand on the small of my back and applied just enough pressure there to let me know that he wasn't going to let me go anywhere else.

"Uh, no, Mom," I said. "We had to go to court today to testify in a case against some petty criminals and we haven't had the chance to change out of these clothes." Earlier, Ranger and I had decided not to tell my folks that we'd had lunch with his parents on the same day.

"Ooo, that sounds exciting!" Mom said. "Frank, did you hear that? Stephanie and Ranger were in court today!"

My father peeked over the top of his newspaper and said, "I heard about it at the Lodge. Johnny DePaolo's son is one of the bailiffs at the courthouse and he said that Ranger's men looked like giants next to everyone else in the room. He was impressed. Johnny was in the same unit with me and Sergeant Hatcher back in the day and I told him that you knew him down in Georgia. Small world, huh?" He grinned at Ranger and then ducked back down behind his paper. I could hardly believe what I'd just seen!

Ranger gave me a sideways glance and an almost-smile. Then I knew that he knew that my father liked him already. This was a very good thing because from the looks of everything else going on at my parents' house, the evening was going to be highly stressful at best. My fears were confirmed when I hugged Valerie.

"I'm sorry for barging in on your dinner like this, but I really didn't have much of a choice," Valerie frantically whispered into my ear. "Daddy called for me to come over and help save the pot roast. Mom's been, um, tippling all afternoon. I've never seen her like this!"

Remembering the way our mother had been after Valerie and Albert skipped out on their own wedding, I truly wasn't surprised. Back then, Mom had been so "tipsy" that she started a food fight with the leftover wedding cake. That sorry event had led to the "great sugar fast" when I discovered I actually _**needed**_ sugar in my system to prevent me from being a total nymphomaniac. Now I felt guilty that my recent actions had caused my mother to have an alcoholic relapse.

"This is _**not**_ your fault, Babe," Ranger whispered to me as we followed my mother and sister into the living room. "We're all grown-ups here. We're free to make our own decisions – good or bad. Don't let your mother's behavior bring you down." He squeezed my hand reassuringly and I gave him a grateful smile.

My father was, as usual, sitting in his favorite chair in front of the television, pretending to read his newspaper while the chaos surrounded him on all sides. Albert Kloughn was sitting on the sofa, balancing the toddler, Lisa, on one knee and holding the new baby in the crook of his arm. Both of the little ones were crying. Valerie's oldest daughter, Angie, was quietly reading a book on the other end of the sofa and Mary Alice, who thought she was a horse, was galloping back and forth between the living room and dining room. I was beginning to understand my mother's drinking habits.

"Now that Ranger and Stephanie are here, we can all have dinner together as one, big, happy family!" Mom said too brightly. Then she giggled and stared at us in bemusement. "Except that my mother's not here. And I know that Ranger's not your real name, but I can't seem to remember what it is."

"It's Ricardo Carlos Manoso!" said my father from behind his paper. "Jeez, Helen, I've told you that a hundred times already!"

"Carlos will be fine, Mom," I assured her, but I doubted that she picked up on that bit of information because she was ambling back toward the kitchen.

My father peeked over the top of his newspaper again and said, "Thank God you're finally here. Now I can have an intelligent conversation while I eat!" Then he folded up the paper, got out of his chair and came over to hug me. He shook hands with Ranger and said, "I appreciate you making an honest woman out of my little girl. And I especially appreciate the fact that you didn't ask me to pay for nothin'!" And he glared over his shoulder at Albert and the fussy babies while he walked over to his place at the dining room table.

Valerie had disappeared into the kitchen to help my mother and both of them were putting dishes of food on the table. My mother shooed the older girls upstairs to wash their hands. Then she took Lisa away from the hapless Albert and wiped her sticky little hands clean with a baby wipe. Amazingly, she was always thinking about cleaning and cleanliness, even after hitting the bottle all afternoon. When the girls came back downstairs, Angie took the still-crying baby from Albert and the child became quiet.

"Gosh," said Albert as he rose up from the couch, "I don't how Angie does it. She's so good with the baby – just like her mother." Then he came toward us with his arms extended for a hug. "Stephanie! Ranger! Congratulations!"

I felt Ranger cringe a little as the chubby, overly-friendly Albert squeezed us all together. We quickly extracted ourselves from his smothering embrace and thanked him for his well wishes. He merely wedged himself between us and placed an arm over each of our shoulders to guide us toward the dining room table. Ranger's raised eyebrow told me that he wondered if Albert had been drinking, too, but I shook my head. Nope, this was just how Albert was.

The dinner went as I had expected. It was utter chaos. All of us were squished around the table. Daddy attempted to engage Ranger in conversation a few times, but he finally gave up when the two babies kept crying loudly. Then he resumed his usual position of looking down at his plate and shoveling his food into his mouth as quickly as possible. Mom took a sip of her liquor after every other bite of her food. Angie sat primly next to me and ate her meal in polite silence. Thankfully, Ranger and I had seats across the table from the rest of the Kloughn family.

Valerie finally settled the crying infant into a sling across her chest, which allowed the hungry child to nurse on demand in relative privacy. Albert kept trying to feed Lisa some mashed potatoes and gravy, but the unhappy toddler kept spitting the food out of her mouth and onto her high-chair tray, as well as Albert's shirt. When my mother told Mary Alice to eat like a person and not like a horse, the girl stood up and announced that she wanted to go back to California.

"I don't like New Jersey!" Mary Alice said, stomping her foot on the floor for emphasis. "It's too cold and too rainy here! The weather is much nicer for horses at our old house. Horses need lots of room to run around and I had lots of room to run in our yard in California. I even had my _**own**_ room at our old house. I want to go back right now!" Then she began to cry.

"Mary Alice, you sit down and finish your dinner!" Valerie admonished her daughter. "You know we can't go back to California. We live here now and the babies are part of our new family and Albert is your new daddy. Remember? We agreed that you and Angie could call him 'N.D.' for 'New Daddy?' That's sounds cool, right?"

Albert looked up and said, "Yeah, I like it! It sounds like 'Indy' from "Indiana Jones and the Lost Ark,' you know? Now _**that's**_ very cool!" Unfortunately, Albert's face and shirt were covered with splotches of mashed potatoes here and there and he definitely did not look anything like Indiana Jones, nor did he look cool in any way, shape or form.

Valerie continued her campaign to make Jersey appear to Mary Alice to be better than California by saying, "And best of all, here in New Jersey Grandma and Grandpa Plum and Great-Grandma Mazur live nearby, too. Isn't that great?"

"But Great-Grandma Mazur got to go to Florida where it's nice enough for horses to stay outside all the time," Mary Alice sniffled and whined. "I wish she had taken me with her in her suitcase!"

"Actually," Angie said in a superior tone of voice, "It rains more in Florida than it does here in New Jersey, Mary Alice. You've just never been there during the rainy season. And besides, you are _**not**_ allowed to travel in someone's luggage, anyway."

"Well, horses can!" Mary Alice snapped at her sister

"No they can't!" Angie replied.

"Can, too!" Mary Alice argued back and then stuck out her tongue at Angie.

"Stop this nonsense right now!" Valerie scolded both of her daughters, but she glared for a longer time at Mary Alice until the girl glumly returned to her place at the dinner table and stared down at her plate. I felt a sudden pang of empathy for my young niece when Valerie turned to me and said, "I just don't know what's gotten into Mary Alice lately!"

Angie glanced up from her plate and said, "She's mad because of the new baby."

"Don't be silly," Valerie said, cuddling her youngest child to her ample bosom. "Just because the baby seems to like you better than anyone else, Angie, doesn't mean that Mary Alice should be jealous."

"Not that new baby,' Angie said with an exasperated sigh before she pointed at Valerie's abdomen. "_**That**_ new baby – the one that's growing inside of you now."

Both of my parents dropped their forks onto their plates and stared at Valerie. Ranger, who had his hand on my knee, suddenly tensed up and I could tell that he was trying to hold back his laughter. He had been right after all – the Kloughn family was providing so many distractions, no one had asked either Ranger or me any embarrassing questions so far.

My mother recovered her voice first and stammered, "Y-you … you're p-pregnant again? So soon?" She suddenly seemed a smidgen more sober than she had a moment before.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Helen! They're just like rabbits," my father grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief. Then he turned toward my sister and said, "Jeez, Louise! Valerie, you used to be so _**smart**_ before you moved to California. I don't know what happened to you out there, but I'd have thought that by now you and the Pillsbury doughboy here would've figured out how to keep from having one baby after another."

"Daddy!" Valerie wailed and gestured toward her older girls.

My father ignored her plea for him to tone down his commentary and said, "Your girls seem to be pretty smart. I'm sure _**they've**_ figured out a thing or two already."

"I know how babies get made," Angie piped up, confirming her grandfather's assertion.

"Me, too!" Mary Alice chimed in.

Suddenly, my mother stood up and cried out, "Who wants dessert? It's pineapple upside down cake!"

"I do!" Everyone answered in unison, even Ranger. Go figure.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Frank's POV**

It's official. My world has turned upside down and sideways. Once upon a time, I had a smart daughter and a crazy daughter. My smart daughter finished college near the top of her class, married a seemingly nice guy who took her out to California and then dumped her ten years later after nearly ruining her life. Now Valerie's married to a Jewish man-child named Kloughn, who can't support her and her four kids – two from her first husband and two by this one with _**another**_ baby on the way. I sure hope it's not another girl!

It truly saddens me to see my oldest girl in such a pitiful situation. The only good thing is that I know her current husband will _**never**_ cheat on her. He worships the ground Valerie walks on and he knows he's lucky she loves him back. Unfortunately, their mutual love for each other won't pay the bills. Of course, since my smart daughter can't seem to figure out how not to get pregnant, she may never be able to hold down a job again. That means _**I'm**_ stuck footing part of the bill for their rental house and their car note until her clown of a husband can get his law business up and running.

In contrast, my crazy daughter barely made it out of college and promptly married a man whom I always suspected of being a low-down, cheating scumbag. My wife, however, only had eyes for the jerk's law degree. What is it with the women in my life and lawyers? I just don't understand the attraction there. Anyway, Stephanie was able to divorce the creep before they'd had any kids. Everything was fine until she lost her job selling ladies' underwear and got a pity-job working as a bounty hunter for my nearly-worthless, slime-ball cousin, Vinnie. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful that blood is thicker than water and all that, but Vinnie's part of the bloodline just isn't of the highest quality.

For a while I was afraid that my crazy daughter would end up married to the "Italian Stallion" cop she shacked up with off-and-on for almost two years. What a nightmare that would've been! I mean, _**that**_ bum – who comes from a long line of bums - stole my baby's virginity when she was still in high school and then he had the gall to brag about it on bathroom walls all around the neighborhood. I wanted to kill him, but I didn't need a blood-feud with his sorry family on my hands.

Recently, though, Stephanie's craziness has led to bigger and better things for her life. Sure, she's always been a trouble-magnet, but she just decided to elope with the hero who's been rescuing her most of the time. So he's a little darker than I would've hoped for, but so what? At least he's not a pompous jackass or a penniless fool! In fact, I've been doing a little research on Ranger's background, as well as his security company, and I'm proud to say that he comes from a solid family with a great reputation up in Newark.

It fills my heart with gladness to know that my crazy daughter has made a very smart decision to marry a highly-decorated, former military man with a good head for business. The more I find out about him, the more I wish she'd gotten involved with him earlier and left that Morelli kid alone. Ah well, it's probably my fault, anyway. After her first marriage failed, I know I went on and on about how she should have married an Italian man. I should've known better – Stephanie is too much like me.

Everyone thinks that my second daughter gets her craziness from the Mazur side of the family - and with my wacko mother-in-law's antics, it's hard to argue with that. The truth is, though, Stephanie get a healthy dose of the crazies from the Plum side of the family, too. I mean, look at Vinnie. And my grandmother – God rest her soul – was a lot like Edna Mazur in her day, but she only spoke Italian, so no one ever really knew how crazy she was back then. Stephanie is _**my**_ little girl through and though and she's even made some of the same kinds of choices I've made over time.

You see, Helen Mazur wasn't exactly the sort of woman my parents wanted me to marry, either. They had chosen a nice, Italian-born-and-raised girl for me; someone who had just arrived in America from their hometown near Salerno. But that's not who I wanted to marry. I already had fallen in love with my Hungarian girl's gorgeous blue eyes and with the quiet fire that still burns within her. My parents were furious with me for refusing to go with their choice of a bride for me. Helen wasn't Italian – not even close – but at least she was Catholic and her family lived nearby.

Of course, I had to share Helen with our daughters for many, many years. Sometimes, I'd be able sneak home from my mail-delivery route for a "nooner" when the girls were in school, but then I took a promotion and it wasn't as easy to leave the post office during the day. After Stephanie got married for the first time and we finally had an "empty nest," I thought I'd get to have my wife all to myself. It just wasn't meant to be.

My father-in-law, Harry Mazur, died that year and my wife invited her newly-widowed mother to live with us. At first, I didn't mind, because I was still working full time. Once I retired, though, I found out I couldn't stand being around the two of them together because they drive each other crazy. Helen is a different woman when her mother is around and my life is way more complicated with Edna Mazur living under my roof. Nevertheless, I keep hoping that the old bag will move into one of those senior citizens' apartment complexes soon – or at least before I completely lose my mind, too.

It took over an hour for Valerie and her husband and kids to clear out after Stephanie and Ranger left my house. I was mad because there were so many things I hadn't been able to talk to the newlyweds about, such as their time in Florida or Ranger's past adventures in the military or even their plans for the immediate future. Heck, nobody talked about anything of importance after we discovered that Valerie was pregnant again.

Helen probably would've stayed drunk all night long, but she had finished off her last bottle of booze halfway into the meal. Sometimes I really like it when she's a little tipsy – we always have lots more fun together once she loosens up, if you know what I mean. Of course, my wife thinks that I don't know how much she drinks when she's upset, but believe me, I do know. That's why I had to get Valerie over here to help out tonight.

Once the house was quiet, I could hear the steady sound of the rain falling on the roof. I padded into the kitchen where Helen was wiping off the countertops so that she could sweep and mop the floor next. Those were always her final tasks of the day. Sighing heavily, I came up behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders. She jumped a little, but then relaxed as I began to knead the tension out of the muscles in her tight neck.

"Leave the floor till tomorrow, Helen," I told her. "It's not like it's going anywhere. In fact, if it keeps raining like this throughout the night, the kids'll only track more mud in here when Valerie brings them back tomorrow morning."

Valerie had gotten into the habit of bringing her girls over on the weekends and Helen would let them help her bake cookies or frost cupcakes or do crafts – just like back in the days when _**our**_ girls were little. Naturally, this had caused me to get into the habit of driving the cab on the weekends more often. Helen didn't gripe about it, though, because she knew that the extra money allowed us to help Valerie.

"Oh, Frank," Helen said tiredly. "You know I like to end the day with everything fresh and clean. That way, the house is ready for whatever comes our way in the morning."

"Yeah, but I think you should take a break tonight." Then I reached around her, plucked the dishtowel out of her hands and turned her around to face me. Worry lines pulled at her beautiful face and I asked her what was wrong.

"I'm worried about Valerie and Albert and the girls," she said. "What's going to happen to them, Frank? They barely fit into that house they're renting now and with another baby on its way, I … I just don't know what they'll do."

"They'll survive," I said and hugged her tightly to my chest in an effort to reassure her. "We'll help them out as much as possible and then, we'll … butt out."

"Butt out?" Helen asked and she looked at me with confusion clouding her eyes.

"Yes, Helen," I reiterated. "I said we'll _**butt**_ _**out**_ of their business. We've raised _**our**_ kids already. We did the best we could with what we had and we all survived. Valerie and Albert will have to do the same. So will Stephanie and Ranger."

"Oh! Stephanie and Ranger!" Helen exclaimed as though she was just remembering that they had been there tonight, too. "We barely got to talk with them!" Then she glanced around the room frantically and asked, "Where's Rex? Did they take Stephanie's hamster with them when they left?"

"Yes, they did," I replied. "And they took the rest of her junk from upstairs, too. I guess you were too wasted at the time to notice them carrying out all that stuff."

Of course, she protested. "I was _**not**_ wasted! I was only a little tipsy, that's all."

I didn't try to argue with Helen. Instead, I released her from my embrace and walked over to the cabinet where she normally kept a bottle of liquor. I pulled out the two empty bottles and brandished them in front of her. We both knew that she'd just bought the booze three days earlier and that I hadn't had any of it, especially since I preferred beer. Helen winced and looked down at the floor.

"Omigod!" she whispered. "I _**am**_ a drunk!"

Setting the bottles on the clean countertop, I reached for Helen and drew her back into my embrace and murmured into her hair, "You're not a drunk, Helen. You _**do**_ drink too much when you're upset, but that doesn't make you a drunk."

"I ... I've been upset a lot lately," she admitted, sounding very pitiful.

"If only you'd let the girls live their own lives and not let their mistakes worry you so much, you'd be fine," I said. "Do something for yourself for a change. Why don't you start taking those nursing classes again?"

She shook her head and said, "I can't. Not right now, anyway. I have to help Valerie with all her girls."

I let out a long sigh and felt my shoulders slump downward in defeat. "Then maybe you _**will**_ become a drunk," I mumbled as I released her. After taking a deep breath, I said, "I can't make your choices for you, Helen. Well, I _**could**_, but you'd only turn right around and do whatever the hell you want to do, anyway. That's what you've always done in the past." Then I shook my head in exasperation and started to leave the kitchen.

"Frank, wait!" Helen called out behind me. "When have I ever gone against your wishes?"

I turned and stared in amazement at my wife of almost forty years. "When have you-? You've _**got**_ to be kidding me, Helen! How about when you wouldn't let me call the police on that young punk, Joseph Morelli, after he violated our Stephanie back in high school? For crying out loud, up until last week, you were pressuring her to marry the jerk! How about the big, friggin' expensive weddings for both girls, even though we had to mortgage our souls to pay for them? Those marriages sure as hell didn't last for as long as the bills did! And how about when you moved your mother in here without asking me first? Talk about going against my wishes! Jeez!" And I threw up my hands in disgust.

Helen's eyes filled with tears and she covered her mouth with her hands. I could see that my words had shocked her to her core. Good! If she hadn't sobered up while she washed the dishes, she definitely was sober now. Obviously, my wife hadn't thought of those events as being anything to which I had objected, but she was silent about them now. I just shook my head again and kept walking toward the stairs.

"Don't stay up too late, Helen," I said over my shoulder. "Like I said before, the floor isn't going anywhere. I'm going to bed now and I think you should, too."

Sadly, I don't think my wife heard me, because I could hear the rhythmic sounds of the broom as she began to sweep the kitchen floor.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

"Well, that wasn't so bad," I said to Stephanie as we drove through the steady rain. "Things went much better for us than I had expected, especially after Valerie and Albert dropped their news about having another baby on the way. I don't think we had to answer more than two or three questions all night."

"Poor Valerie!" Steph said and she shook her head. "I can't imagine what she must be going through. Jeez! Her _**fifth**_ child! I can barely handle Rex." Then she turned in her seat to check on the hamster's cage which was secured by a seatbelt in the back seat of the Porsche.

I didn't respond to her comment. What could I say? Driving along the quiet streets, I was in what Stephanie called my "zone," but my thoughts were racing around inside my head. I knew my Babe wasn't exactly "mommy material" at this point in her life, but I hadn't been much of a "daddy" to my biological daughter, either. A tiny seed of an idea began to take root in my mind and I decided to call Rachel and find out if Stephanie and I could spend some more time with Julie the next time we were in Miami, which I hoped would be soon. It was worth a try, anyway.

Then I began to think about all the extra time I'd have to spend in the gym in order to work off all the extra calories I had consumed that day. First, there'd been my mother's empanadas at lunch, which were a serious addiction for me. Then there was Stephanie's mother's infamous pineapple upside down cake. At first, I had wanted to refuse dessert, but after sitting through that circus of a meal, I figured I deserved a piece of the sugary stuff, too. Admittedly, it tasted delicious and it had pineapples on it after all, so … damn! Now I was starting to sound like my Babe!

I drove directly to the Haywood building and parked the Porsche in its usual spot. Stephanie lifted her suitcase out of the trunk of the car while I retrieved Rex's cage. The furry little guy seemed to be rather freaked out by the whole experience. Rex had been through a lot in the past week, but I knew that Ella was ready, willing and able to help the attack hamster feel at home as quickly as possible. We only had to wait a few minutes until the elevator doors opened in the parking garage and we ascended to the seventh floor.

My Babe waved at the security camera and I knew that the men in the fifth floor control room had big grins on their faces while they watched us on their monitors. If they had been expecting a big show of kissing and groping from us, they were going to be very disappointed. Stephanie and I quietly stood next to each other until we reached the privacy of our apartment. Thankfully, there weren't any more balloons nor was there any evidence remaining that there ever had been any balloons in the apartment. After I put Rex's cage on the kitchen counter and grabbed two Coronas out of the fridge, _**then**_ we kissed and groped our way over to the living room sofa.

"This has been a hell of a day," I finally said when we had settled down a bit to drink our beers. "I wonder what it would have been like if your grandmother had been there, too."

Steph quickly lowered the beer bottle from her lips and replied, "No, you don't."

I finished my Corona and then turned on the television. Nothing worthwhile was on, but I wasn't quite ready to go to bed. Stephanie and I still hadn't discussed what we were going to do at bedtime or how we were going to do certain things since this morning's fiasco. I knew she still wasn't feeling great, so mutual sex was out of the question. And truthfully, I wasn't sure that I could handle any physical intimacy, either, but I didn't want to talk about it just yet. Watching the weather channel seemed to be a safe bet for the time being.

"You're right," I said. "I don't really want to know. Tonight was bad enough without me having to avoid her groping fingers, too."

"Hey!" Stephanie protested. "That's not fair! Grandma Mazur promised that she wouldn't try to molest you anymore, now that you're a member of the family and all. She even said it was part of her wedding present to you."

I smiled and said, "I think her staying down in Florida for another few days is an even better present."

Stephanie's eyes glinted when she returned my smile and I knew she was up to something. "That's exactly why I hope Grandma Mazur will agree to move into my old apartment when she returns to Jersey," she said. "I haven't figured out all the details yet, but I think it would be good for my parents, too. It seems to me that Mom will be helping out Valerie a lot more in the days to come and having another spare room to use as a playroom or nursery would be nice. I know my father would appreciate the girls and their noise contained in a different part of the house while he's watching TV."

I kissed the top of my Babe's head and said, "It's nice that you're thinking of ways to make your family's life easier. I'm not sure if your mother likes me, but I'm glad that your father didn't try to hurt me for stealing you away from him. I didn't realize that you're such a 'Daddy's girl.'"

"Am not!" Steph protested again, sounding very much like her little nieces.

"Yes, you are," I reiterated. "He'd do anything to make sure that you're happy."

"Yeah, well, I think that's only because he really likes _**you**_," she replied. "You know, you're a real hero to my dad, especially now that he knows about some of the things you did during your military career. I can't believe you both know the same guy from your time in the Army."

"That _**is**_ kind of cool," I nodded. "Sergeant Major Hatcher is one of the best trainers I ever had. Of course, he's been retired for a long time, but I think it's great that your father knew him back before you and I were even born. And it's truly an honor for your dad to say that I remind him of Hatch. Maybe you'll get to meet him someday."

"I'd like that," she said. Then Steph's face became serious and she murmured, "My mother is going to be much harder to win over. In the Burg, "success" is when all of your kids are wearing wedding bands and providing you with photos of the grandbabies to show off at the beauty parlor."

"Babe, about the grandbabies—" I began.

"Don't worry about it, Carlos," she interrupted me. "We'll talk to your doctor next week and see what he has to say. Besides, as long as Valerie keeps popping out more kids, we can tell my mother that we're _**trying**_ and she'll be happy."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" I asked.

She blew out a sigh and replied, "No, of course not. We both know that not only will _**my**_ mother and grandmother hound me about children, but also _**your**_ mother and grandmother will want to know when there will be a baby Mañoso or two for them to cuddle and spoil."

"You're right," I sighed. Then I pulled her closer to me and spoke softly into her ear, "At least we have a good excuse for _**this **_month."

"Speaking of which," Steph said as she untangled herself from me, "I'd better take care of some things before we get involved in anything serious."

Then she picked up her suitcase and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the bathroom door close and after a while, I heard the sounds of the woman I loved singing to herself in the shower. I hoped she thoroughly enjoyed herself, because as far as I was concerned, there was absolutely no way that my Babe and I would get involved in anything serious tonight. Leaning back against the sofa cushions, I let my mind drift for a while.

I remembered the look in Frank Plum's eyes just before we drove away from the Burg. There was a fierceness in them which told me that I'd better "do right" by his daughter, or else I'd have to answer to his form of justice. Perhaps my Babe had never noticed it, but her father loved her more than she knew. He had no intention of letting another man treat her the way that Dickie Orr or Joe Morelli had done. Stephanie Plum definitely was a "Daddy's girl" - and I wasn't ever going to allow myself to forget it.

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A/N: Now that the newlyweds have dealt with both sets of parents, they can focus on their own problems. Of course, they've still got to navigate through Grandma Rosa's birthday party and meeting Ranger's siblings, but that should be lots of fun. Again, I'm very grateful for all your encouraging reviews. Please continue to let me know what you think of my story. Thanks! :D


	28. Chapter 28

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: First of all, I want to acknowledge "barb117" for sending in the 500****th**** review for this story! Thank you, Barb! As always, I am deeply grateful to all of you who take the time to let me know what you think of my writing. Now that Ranger and Stephanie have dealt with their parents, it's time for them to tie up some other loose ends before they head to Grandma Rosa's party. I'm glad that most of you really seem to like all of the different POVs. I've been having a lot of fun writing them. Enjoy! :D**

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"_One of us should stop her," Ranger said to Morelli, his eyes fixed on me._

"_Not going to be me," Morelli said. "Have you ever tried to stop her from doing something she wanted to do?"_

"_Haven't had much success at it," Ranger said._

_Morelli rocked back on his heels. "One thing I've learned about Stephanie over the years, she's not good at taking orders."_

"_Has authority issues," Ranger said._

"_And if you piss her off, she'll get even. She ran over me with her father's Buick once and broke my leg."_

_That got a small smile out of Ranger._

"_Nice to see you boys bonding," I said._

_Twelve Sharp_

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Chapter 28: The Other Man, Part 2

**Ranger's POV**

When the buzzer on my alarm clock went off, Stephanie didn't move a muscle. She continued to sleep peacefully, sprawled half-way on top of my bare chest, as though she didn't have a care in the world. The previous night, before we had climbed into bed together, we agreed that neither of us would attempt to initiate anything too intense until after we had spoken to Dr. O'Neill. I was mildly disappointed that my Babe wasn't interested in having sex during this time in her monthly cycle, but I was determined to respect her boundaries concerning this matter for the time being. In the future, I knew I would be able to convince her to come around to my way of thinking.

Gently sliding Stephanie off of me, I paused for a moment to gaze down at the wondrous sight of her lying next to me. A smile played at the corners of my mouth as I played with a curly strand of her hair and she still didn't even twitch in her sleep. I was so proud of my Babe for the way she had handled herself in the courtroom, as well as during our visits with both sets of our parents the previous day, but I knew that everything all together had taken its toll on her. When I yawned, I had to admit that the day had taken its toll on me, too.

The act of dragging my weary body out of the bed was one of the toughest things I had done in a while, but I really had no choice. Tank and I were going running this morning and I knew I had to get down to the gym ASAP. It was time for me to start working off all of the extra calories I had consumed between my mother's empanadas and Mrs. Plum's pineapple upside down cake.

It would have been nice if Steph was in any shape to join me for at least part of my morning workout, but I knew I had to take things slowly with her. She wasn't anywhere close to coming around to my way of thinking about the importance of a healthy diet and proper physical fitness. After I put on a T-shirt, running shorts and sweatsuit, I gently shook my Babe's shoulder until she opened her bleary eyes.

"Babe, I'm going to do my work-out now. If you get up before I return, just call Ella and she'll bring you whatever you want for breakfast."

Steph nodded and turned her face upward to kiss me. Dios! She looked so sexy laying there, wearing one of my T-shirts as her pajamas. It was all I could do to control myself and respect the fact that it was the wrong time of the month to indulge in morning nookie. Sighing inwardly, I gave my Babe a quick kiss and then I forced my legs to carry me out of the bedroom to lace up my running shoes. Then I quietly left our apartment and went down to the fifth-floor control room to see what was going on.

"Good morning, sir," said Ram as I came into the room and glanced at each one of the monitors. Everything was nice and quiet – just the way I liked it.

"Who's coming on at 0600?" I asked. The clock on the wall said 0515 hours, but the oncoming shift workers usually showed up a little early to eat some breakfast before they parked their behinds in the chairs.

Ram picked up the duty roster and replied, "Aguilar, Dorsey, Martinez and Santos."

"Santos?" I asked, quite surprised to hear that my cousin was returning to duty so soon.

"Yeah, Santos," I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. "It's not a problem. Watching the monitors is considered light duty, and the doctor said I'd be able to handle it just fine … _**sir**_." Lester was holding a large mug of steaming hot coffee and he had a big grin on his face. "Besides, I had already traded shifts with Binkie so that he could sleep in today. He had a hot date last night with that local girl he's been seeing and since I needed more time to get ready for Grandma Rosa's party tonight, the trade seemed reasonable."

I stifled a groan. Somehow, I had forgotten that Lester would be at tonight's party, too. After all, his mother was Grandma Rosa's youngest child. My Uncle Teddy was the oldest living son, then my Uncle Javier - named for Grandma Rosa's brother who was a priest - then my father, and then my Aunt Anita, Lester's mother. Although Lester was my closest cousin on the Mañoso side of the family, our relationship didn't have the same level of familial intimacy as my friendships with Val, Gonzo or Cat - my Súarez cousins down in Florida. We were, however, very close to each other within our "band of brothers" due to our days in the army together.

"You're going to take it easy here on the day shift, right?" I said. "No heroics if a trouble call comes in. Let someone else go out. I'm serious."

"Oh, don't you worry about me, Ranger" Lester said. "I _**have**_ to be a good boy today, 'cause I'm gonna be a _**bad**_ boy tonight."

I raised my eyebrow at Lester and he continued, "I'm bringing Sheila Montoya as my date to the party. You probably don't remember her from grade school, but she filled out nicely once we got to high school. She was in my homeroom class two years in a row. Man, Sheila was _**hot**_! She still is - and she's newly divorced, too. I gonna have to sleep in late tomorrow morning, if you know what I mean." The leer on his face was comical, but I wasn't laughing.

"What about your bruised ribs?" I asked dryly as I turned to leave the control room. "Won't you be in pain?"

"That's the beauty of the thrashing you gave me, coz," Lester said and then he paused to take a long sip of his coffee. "I'm gonna get _**all**_ kinds of sympathy points from family and friends alike tonight. And the best part is that Sheila is a nurse! Dude, can you say T.L.C. all night long? I mean, you actually did me a favor by giving me some 'wounded warrior' credibility. I can hardly wait to experience some of Sheila's bedside manners. Damn! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout!" Then he grinned even wider at me.

I just shook my head in amazement. Only Lester could make something great come out of something so bad. Ever since we were kids, he'd always been able to talk himself both into and out of trouble and he obviously planned to use the injuries I had inflicted upon him to score big after our grandmother's party. At least I didn't need to feel guilty anymore about hurting him.

Now, though, I'd have to find a way to get to Grandma Rosa first and tell her _**my**_ version of how I ended up hurting Lester or else there was going to be trouble. My cousin had a way of twisting the truth to _**his**_ best advantage and I was not in the mood for every female relative at the party to scold me about causing him such physical pain. I already knew that they were going to give me grief about my elopement, as well as the fact that I had married a non-Latina who couldn't speak Spanish. My head started to ache as I realized that tonight had the potential to be as draining as yesterday had been.

I slipped into my office and checked my e-mail, as well as my phone messages. Not surprisingly, Joe Morelli had left messages for me on both my business phone and my company's web account. I winced at the fact that he said he'd like to speak with me and my wife at our earliest convenience. Of course, he didn't put it in such nice terms, but I suppose if I'd been in his shoes, I wouldn't care to be very polite about things, either. I replied to Morelli's e-mail and told him that Stephanie and I would meet him for lunch at Pino's this afternoon. Then I bypassed the elevator and took the stairs down to the basement.

Tank already was in the gym when I arrived. He took one look at my face and shook his head. There was nothing that either of us wanted to say while we were in the presence of cameras and mics, so we both stretched in silence and then headed for the street. We went outside through the garage and fell into a nice running pace along the deserted sidewalk. The sky was clear and the air felt crisp as we ran through the streets of Trenton. A few early-morning commuters drove past us until we turned onto a path around a nearby park. After about three miles, Tank cleared his throat and began to talk.

"About last night," he said, "Did you and Stephanie-"

I cut him off and said, "Nothing happened. We went to sleep together and nothing more. That's why I sent you back to your house."

"Just checking," he said, sounding a little hurt.

"Hey, man," I said, "I appreciate the fact that you were willing to stay in Bobby's apartment in case something had gone wrong, but we're okay."

"Do I need to stay in the building tonight?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. Stephanie and I are going to my grandma's birthday party and we'll probably be out late. Both of us are still tired, so we agreed to hold off on any "therapies" until after we talk to the doctor on Monday."

"She's still on the rag, huh?" Tank said.

"That, too," I admitted with a grimace. We were getting way too personal with Steph's physical condition, as well as my own. "But thanks for offering your help, anyway. I'm still looking forward to trying your ideas."

"Yeah, well, I advise you to go slowly," he warned. "I'm not a professional, so my ideas might be a load of crap that'll mess you up more than you already are."

We ran in silence for another half-mile before Tank asked, "So … that dark look on your face this morning; what was that about?"

"I finally checked my work e-mail and phone messages," I replied. "Morelli wants to talk."

"That figures," Tank nodded. "You gonna meet with him alone?"

"Negative. If Stephanie and I plan to live in this town for any length of time, we've got to clear the air with her ex now, before there are any 'incidents' due to hard feelings."

"Need any back-up?"

I shook my head. "We'll be alright. We're all grown-ups."

Tank raised an eyebrow at me and I smiled back at him. "Morelli might be a little upset right now, but I doubt he'll try anything stupid in a public place." I said.

"Okay," Tank shrugged. We ran in companionable silence for another mile or so and then my long-time friend asked me, "When did you know – I mean _**really**_ know for sure – that you actually wanted to _**marry**_ Stephanie?"

It took me a moment to compose my thoughts and I said, "Right after I found out that she _**hadn't**_ spent the night at Morelli's house. When Lester told me what had happened, I could hardly believe it, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to take Steph with me on my Florida trip. I realized that I might never get another chance like it - it was the opportunity of a lifetime. That's when I asked Ella to pack a bag for Stephanie, too. You know the rest of the story."

"Yeah," he nodded. "The way you played up those choices to Stephanie when you stayed overnight at the safe house – now _**that**_ was a nice piece of psychological warfare. You lucked out. I'm just glad I got to be your best man at your wedding after all that."

I smiled and quietly said, "Hooah!" (_Translation: Me, too._)

After another mile, Tank told me something that I never thought I'd hear from him. "I'm thinking of getting married to Lula."

Grabbing a fistful of my sweatshirt, I held my chest and faked a heart attack for a few paces. "Dios mio!" I exclaimed playfully. "The world must be coming to an end!" Then I straightened up and continued to run next to Tank.

"Smartass," Tank said as he gave me a sideways glance. "This isn't a joke, Ranger. I'm trying to be serious here."

"Okay," I said and we ran for another fifty paces or so before I asked, "When did you figure out that you love Lula enough to marry her?"

"Yesterday," he replied without hesitation.

"What happened?"

He had a strange expression on his face, halfway between embarrassed and proud, when he said, "Well … after you called and told me that you didn't need for me to hang around, I went back to my house. Then Lula came over and we … talked."

Yeah, right. "Wait a minute," I said. "I thought she was allergic to your cats."

Tank shrugged and said, "Turns out, she's been taking allergy shots."

"Wonders never cease," I said as I shook my head.

"You got that right," Tank agreed and then continued, "Anyway, I was telling Lula about some of the things I had recommended for you to do with Stephanie and-"

Now I stopped in my tracks and glared at my old friend. "You told _**Lula**_ about _**my**_ problems?"

"No! I'd never do that and you know it!" he exclaimed and pulled on my arm to get me running again.

"Fine," I said and picked up the pace. "You just took me by surprise, that's all."

Tank shook his head. "We were talking about the, um … toys we had given to you as wedding presents. Lula was wondering if we should have given you guys something, you know, with more class. So I tried to make her feel better by explaining to her that you two probably would get more use out of the toys than you would from a set of silver candlesticks."

I grinned. "Hooah!" (_Translation: Damn skippy__!_)

He grinned back at me and said, "When I proceeded to remind Lula about some of the things you and Stephanie could do with the toys, well … one thing led to another, and before I knew it, one of my wrists was handcuffed to the bedpost and the other was handcuffed to Lula. And the funny thing is that I didn't mind it one bit. In fact, I think that's when I decided that I'd like for things to stay that way for the rest of my life."

"You want to be cuffed to Lula _**and**_ to your bed … forever?" I asked, now smiling widely.

"Metaphorically speaking, yes."

It was difficult to banish the mental image from my mind, but I finally accomplished this feat and asked, "Have you already asked Lula to marry you?"

He nodded.

"Did she say yes?"

He nodded again.

"Congratulations," I said - and I honestly meant it. In the years that I had known Tank, very few women had been bold or brave enough to go out with him. Although Lula certainly wasn't _**my**_ type of woman, she could put a smile on the big guy's face like no one ever had done before.

"Thanks," he said. "And this time, I remember how everything happened."

"You were sober the whole time?"

"Yeah," Tank nodded again. "We had just finished doing the deed and I remember thinking to myself, 'Dude, this crazy woman is the best thing you've ever had, so don't let her slip away from you' and before I knew it, my mouth was popping the question."

"So, are you headed down to Florida next week?" I asked. "You know that you're welcome aboard the _Batcave_ anytime. In fact, Papí would be happy to see you again so soon."

He shook his head and said, "Thanks, but no thanks. Both Lula and I are New Jersey residents so we'll just stay local. I actually was thinking of taking her to this little place up in the Poconos after we see the Justice of the Peace. It's one of those resort hotels. I found it online and it looks real nice."

I considered this for about an eighth of a mile and then said, "Sounds like you really are serious, old friend."

"Hooah," he replied matter-of-factly. (_Translation: I am seriously serious_.)

"Then I say you should go for it - ASAP," I said. "Don't wait around forever like I did. If you're sure about Lula this time, then you shouldn't waste a single moment trying to outwit her."

"What do you mean?"

"Everybody knows that you and Lula are crazy for each other, Tank," I explained. "Just like everybody –apparently - knew how much Stephanie and I cared for each other. So don't be like me. I nearly lost the woman I loved because I was too busy trying to be subtle and sneaky. Life's too short for that crap. And we're already living on borrowed time as it is."

Tank nodded one last time before we exited the park and headed back to the RangeMan building, both lost in our own thoughts. Our time serving together in the Special Forces had been a lot of fun, but it was a hard life, too. All of us former soldiers knew that we had survived terrible situations in which we really should have died. The fact that we still drew breath was a miracle on its own. Even as I said those encouraging words to my friend, I knew I was speaking to myself.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

Unbelievable! While I was sleeping in, my darling husband agreed to a supposedly casual meeting between us and the man who had recently broken up with me. I could hardly breathe when Ranger told me that we'd be having lunch with Joe that afternoon - at Pino's, no less!

"Are you out of your mind?" I exclaimed, my sudden hysteria threatening to overcome me. "I'm not ready to face Joe! It's too soon!"

"Babe, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner Morelli can move on," Ranger said calmly as he drank his coffee and chewed on the last morsel of his toasted, whole-grain bagel.

The wonderful Saint Ella had delivered a nutritious, but boring, breakfast to us at around nine o'clock and we were just finishing it when Ranger delivered this unwelcome news to me. I hadn't woken up until 'Mr. Studly Do-Right' returned from his workout, which had taken an extremely long time. He and Tank had gone for a ten-mile run at the crack of dawn and then they had sparred with some of the other men in the gym and _**then**_ they had lifted weights. I got tired just thinking about the run.

"But Carlos, why Pino's?" I asked. "People are going to see us. People are going to _**recognize**_ us."

His eyes locked onto mine and he said, "That's the idea, Babe. We're married now. _**People**_ need to get used to seeing us together - _**especially**_ all the people who know that you and Morelli used to be together."

"Is this about 'marking your territory'?" I asked as steam began to form in my ears. "Because, if it is, you can just forget-"

I never finished my sentence. Ranger sprang up out of his chair and swept me up into his arms before I had a chance to let my tirade get to full volume. His lips claimed my lips and within seconds, I lost my train of thought. Part of me wanted to stay angry at him for being able to distract me so easily. The other part of me wanted to stay lost in his kisses. Nevertheless, we both knew that we weren't going to end up back in bed, so I wasn't surprised to find that I still had on all of my clothes after Ranger stopped kissing me.

"What did you do that for?" I asked as he led me into the living room. Not surprisingly, my voice sounded husky to my own ears.

He sort-of smiled and said, "You're cute when you're about to have a temper tantrum, but not when you're in the middle of one. I just wanted to cut off your steam before it burned us both."

"Hmph!" I said and narrowed my eyes at him. "That's awfully sneaky of you."

He shrugged. "Whatever works, Babe."

Then he kissed me again and pulled me down onto the sofa with him. I don't exactly remember when I agreed that meeting Joe would turn out for the best, but I guess it must have happened after Ranger wore down my defenses. However, he did agree to make a slight detour to my apartment on our way to the pizza place.

"Why are we here, Babe?" Ranger asked after Dillon, the building manager, finished explaining about all of the repairs and then left us alone.

"I just need to pick up a few things," I explained. "And I need to decide what should stay and what should go before Grandma Mazur returns from Florida. Thanksgiving will be here before we know it and I want the place to be ready for her by then."

"I see," Ranger said. "Tell me again why you've got your cookie jar under one arm and holding a sack of soot-filled shoes and clothes in the other."

I glanced down at the trash bag full of smoke-damaged clothing and shrugged. "If I can't salvage these, then I'll have to replace them."

"Ella has fully stocked your side of the closet already," he reminded me.

"And I truly appreciate all those nice things," I said. "But some of the items in this bag are my favorites. I really hope I can save them."

Ranger processed this information and then he said, "Babe, you know I can't allow you to stash your gun in that jar. It's not secure. In fact, it's ridiculous!"

I gave him a Burg girl glare and said, "For your information, I _**wasn't**_ going to stash my gun in the cookie jar."

"Then why are you taking it with you?"

"It'll make Rex feel more at home," I said. "And besides, I was hoping that if I placed it on the kitchen counter, the cookie fairy would fill it with wonderful, sugary treats."

Now I figured that it was Ranger's turn to glare back at me for being so addicted to junk food, but he didn't. Instead, he came over to me and wrapped his arms around me in a gentle hug. Then he kissed the top of my head and said, "And _**this**_ is why I love you."

"Because I believe in the cookie fairy?" I asked.

"Because you're sentimental," he replied. "And you're tough and brave and lucky and irrational. But I love every part of you and I can hardly wait to-"

"Irrational?" I said, interrupting the flow of Ranger's words. "You think I'm irrational?"

He merely shook his head and said, "Babe."

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

I've already marked my calendars to remind me of the particular days of the month when I might want to schedule some time to be in the wind and away from my Babe. I love her more than anything, but we almost had to abort this afternoon's mission before it even started. Stephanie's hormones were making things difficult and she wasn't very happy when she heard that I had agreed to meet with Joe Morelli over lunch at Pino's. I knew it was risky, but I had to take a chance. Luckily, I knew that the cop would understand the situation with her condition because he had suffered through it himself.

Lunch went mostly as expected. Morelli was already sitting there when we arrived at Pino's. Several of the restaurant's patrons stared at me and Stephanie when we sat down at the table with him, but I ignored their curious glances. We ate our pizza and had some small talk, but I kept wondering when the serious yelling would begin. Steph was a nervous wreck and when she finally excused herself to go to the restroom, I leaned over and talked to Morelli in a low voice.

"Alright, Morelli," I growled. "Is there something in particular you wanted to say either me or Stephanie, or are we going to just sit around and chit-chat about nothing important until we all turn to dust?"

Morelli considered my words and then quietly asked me, "Does she know? Stephanie know what you are? Have you told her who you work for?"

"She knows what she needs to know - for now," I replied.

He sat back in his chair and smiled crookedly. "So … you _**haven't**_ told her everything yet. She doesn't know you're a Fed. This ought to be good."

"What do you want, Morelli?" I asked, feeling annoyed. Yes, I worked for certain federal agencies. No, I hadn't told Stephanie which ones, but I would - all in good time.

"You _**know**_ what I've always wanted, Mañoso, and if it weren't for you, I might've actually been able to make it happen," he said, his voice was tight and hard. "But like the Rolling Stones once said, you can't always get what you want. And seeing you two all happy together – out in the open and not sneaking around behind my back – I've finally realized that Steph belongs with you now."

I was tempted to say something flippant, but Trenton isn't a huge town and we'd all need to keep on each other's good sides as much as possible. Also, the fact that both Morelli and I carry multiple loaded weapons at all times kept me from indulging my impulse to gloat. Thiswas the man who easily could have had everything I now possessed, but he'd screwed it up by not allowing the woman we both loved to be her true self. Since Morelli couldn't remake my Babe into a semi-compliant Burg housewife, he had wisely let her go. I decided to rephrase my question.

"Is there anything that either I or my wife can do for you?" I asked.

Morelli flinched when I said the word "wife." Then he took a sip of his beer and said, "I just want to know how you did it; how you finally were able to take Stephanie away from me. Obviously, you were waiting right there, as always, and she ran straight into your poaching arms."

"I was under the impression that _**you**_ broke up with Stephanie," I calmly replied. "Didn't you tell her that you were tired of waiting for her to make up her mind?"

Morelli blinked. Then his shoulders slightly slumped and he said, "Yeah, well, that was after she wouldn't accept my final marriage proposal. But I have to know - how _**did**_ you get the notoriously indecisive Stephanie Plum to marry you?"

Without any hesitation I said, "I put a ring on it."

"Oh."

"I love Stephanie," I continued, "And I trust her intuition. She'll never be as good a … bounty hunter as I am, but my Babe's definitely got guts, as well as a natural talent for finding people."

He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at me. "I guess this means you're gonna try to turn Stephanie into a super-spook like you and the rest of your crew," he whispered bitterly.

"Not exactly," I replied carefully and quietly. This was neither the time nor the place to discuss my profession. "Stephanie is free to be whatever and whoever she wants to be, as far as I'm concerned. But she's got a lot of potential and she'll be working on certain cases with me."

"Well, good luck with that," he said. "You people must have access to _**phenomenal **_health and property insurance. And, believe me, you're gonna need it."

That comment got half of a smile out of me and I said, "We'll be alright."

Morelli sighed and nodded. "Just take good care of her, will ya? Don't let her get in too far over her head. I ... there will always be a special place in my heart for Stephanie Plum."

I felt myself tense up. I didn't like the sound of that statement, even though something very similar to it most likely would have come out of my mouth if our roles had been reversed. Morelli noticed my body posture and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Don't worry, Ranger," he said, smiling ruefully, "I'm not like you; I can't be a poacher; sharing's just not my thing - especially when it involves married women. From here on out, I'll respectfully keep my distance from your wife. It would be nice to think that we could all end up being good friends someday, but I'm not that naïve. I know where to draw the line and I don't plan on crossing it."

"I'll hold you to that, Morelli," I said.

He nodded again. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Mañoso."

"In that case," I said, "I've got someone I'd like for you to meet." Then I pulled a small, white business card out of my pocket and handed it to him.

"Linda Hansen," Morelli mumbled as he studied the card. Then he looked up at me and asked. "Is she related to you?"

"No."

"Does she … look like … Steph?"

"Not even close," I replied. "Blonde hair, pale blue eyes. She's an elementary school teacher over in Hamilton Township. Her cousin is one of my employees, but he gave me permission to give you Linda's card. She's very nice and I think you'll get along with her."

Morelli took out his wallet and carefully placed the card inside one of its folds. He was stuffing the wallet back into his pocket when Stephanie reappeared at the table and stood next to her chair. Her gaze swept from me to Morelli and then back to me. Before she could say anything, he began to speak.

"Ranger and I were just settling the bill," he told her. "It's real nice of you two to pay for the pizza this time, Cupcake." Then Morelli looked over at me as if he was daring me to contradict him. I just smiled and let him have his little victory. And I decided to ignore the "Cupcake" remark - after all, _**I**_ got the girl and I know she'll always be my Babe!

"Well, I gotta get going," Morelli said to Stephanie as he rose from his chair. "I'll be seeing you two around town, I'm sure. Say hi to your folks for me, Steph, okay?"

My Babe only nodded at Morelli's request while he shrugged on his leather jacket. Now I was standing next to Steph, with my arm draped casually, but somewhat possessively, over her shoulder. It was time for us to part ways and I knew the entire place was watching the scene unfold between us out of the corners of their eyes.

Then Joe Morelli, Trenton cop and former lover of Stephanie Plum, thrust his right hand toward me. His steady gaze held mine as he waited for me to reach out to shake hands with him, which I did without any hesitation. His grasp was firm, but we didn't turn the handshake into a contest of strength. It was a final "gentlemen's agreement" to let bygones be bygones where my wife was concerned. And I sensed that Morelli would turn out to be a man of his word.

**

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**A/N: As I've said before, I don't hate Morelli – he's just not the right man for Stephanie. Still, I hope he gets his own HEA with someone else really soon. This story will only hint at such an occurrence, but let me know what you think. Of course, by the time I post my next update, Sizzlin' Sixteen will have been released and we'll all have a better idea of what JE, Inc. thinks. Many apologies for not responding to your wonderful reviews - I promise to answer all of them when I return from summer camp in two weeks. I look forward to hearing from you! Thanks! :D**


	29. Chapter 29

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Also, I'm only borrowing the words to Sister Sledge's megahit, 'We Are Family' for a short time. They're not mine, but I think they work well with this particular chapter.**

**A/N: Yay! I'm back from summer camp, where personal electronics were forbidden. :( Actually, I was so busy that I didn't even have time to write anything on paper and now I must tackle the mountain of laundry that my family produced while we hiked and swam and roasted marshmallows around the campfire. Thank you for sending in so many lovely reviews while I was gone! It took me a long time to read through all the e-mail messages in my in-box when I got home and I promise to answer them as soon as I can. The main theme throughout this chapter is the bond that exists between family members. For better or for worse, we all have families. If you have great relationships with your relatives, then count yourself blessed. Even if you don't get along well with your family, you'll probably be able to relate to some of the things in this chapter. There are, of course, multiple POVs. Enjoy!**

* * *

"_Your FTA's long gone," the guy at the van said._

"_Just curious," Ranger told him. "Wanted to see what the scene looked like."_

"_Looks like you got a new partner. What happened to Tank?"_

"_It's Tank's day off," Ranger said._

"_Hey, wait a minute," the guy said, smiling at me. "Aren't you Stephanie Plum?"_

"_Yes," I said. "And whatever you've heard … it isn't true."_

"_You two are kind of cute together," the guy said to Ranger. "I like the matching clothes. Does Celia know about this?"_

…_We climbed into the truck and buckled ourselves in._

"_Who's Celia?' I asked Ranger._

"_My sister. Marty Sanchez, the guy by the van, went to school with Celia. They dated for a while."_

"_Is she your only sister?"_

"_I have four sisters."_

"_Any brothers?"_

"_One."_

_Eleven on Top_

**

* * *

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**Chapter 27: Family Ties**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_We are family_**

**_I got all my sisters with me_**

**_We are family_**

**_Get up ev'rybody and sing_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Celia's** **POV**

I can't believe my knuckleheaded baby brother has gone off and done it again! He eloped down in Florida with a woman that _**none**_ of us know. Then, when he _**finally**_ brought her up to Newark to meet our parents, he forbade the rest of us from being at the house when they arrived. A sister – especially an older and wiser sister – has a right to know what's going on with her younger siblings. My brother knows that I take my position as the oldest child in the family very seriously. And I tell you, Carlito is going to regret his recent actions!

Mama just confirmed that Carlos and Stephanie will be at Grandma Rosa's birthday party tonight. Of course, she also gave me a list of last-minute details to work out. But why should I do all this work by myself? I have three younger sisters who could - and _**should**_ - be helping me. I think I'll give them a call and, while I'm at it, I'll tell them what we're going to do to find out more about this Stephanie Plum - Carlito's new wife.

Tonight would be very interesting – and _**enlightening**_.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_Ev'ryone can see we're together_**

**_As we walk on by_**

**_(FLY!) And we fly just like birds of a feather_**

**_I won't tell no lie_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Teresa Mañoso-Barrato's POV**

I hung up the phone and turned to my sisters, Maria and Elena, and spoke with an excited tremor in my voice. "Celia says that Mama says that Carlos has promised to be at Grandma Rosa's party tonight **_and_** that he's bringing his new wife!"

"Oh, I can't wait to meet her!" squealed Elena, who always squeals when she's excited. It's very annoying, but she's been doing it since she was two years old, so we're all used to it by now.

"I can't believe our little Carlito eloped **_again_**," Maria was still smiling as she shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know how he gets away his antics."

I grinned knowingly and said, "First of all, you know he's bigger than all of us now – even Nestor, even Papa! Secondly, you know that our Carlito has always been Mama's favorite. He's 'the baby,' after all, and he never fails to obtain forgiveness from our parents, even if it takes a while."

"Lucky little jerk!" Elena sighed. "I always got caught, no matter how sneaky I tried to be."

Maria and I laughed at this and Elena glared at us. It was true; our youngest sister never had been able to get away with any mischief when we were growing up. This was partly because she had no idea how loud she was, and partly because she had the guiltiest face of all of us. Our mother could tell right away whenever Elena had done something she shouldn't have done. Carlos, on the other hand, was the sneakiest of all of us and he got away with practically everything.

"Sweetie, you couldn't even sneak your way into a G-rated movie," Maria chuckled. "In fact, the only thing you ever got away with was marrying Eddie, your Puerto Rican hunk, and not the nice Cuban boy Celia had picked out for you."

Elena brightened at this comment. "Yes! So Carlito and I have that much in common, because the rest of you all did as Celia told you to do and you married **_her_** choices for you. Carlito and I are the Mañoso rebels!"

I bristled a little at this and so did Maria, but then I shrugged it off and said, "Actually, Celia did me a favor. I had dated so many losers back in high school, that when she introduced me to my Ernesto, it was love at first sight."

Maria nodded in agreement. "It was the same with me and Tony. Celia definitely knows how to pick winners!" Then she and I gave each other high-fives.

"Well, I don't think I would have been happy with Marty Sanchez," said Elena. "He's too old for me, and besides, it was too creepy to think about being paired up with one of Celia's old boyfriends. I'm glad that Nestor found true love with Marty's cousin, Mercedes, though."

"Yeah," I smirked. "Sixteen years and seven children's worth of happiness, so far. I wonder if they're done yet."

Now Maria chuckled and said, "I think Nestor just wanted to have one more child that Mama and Papa had with the six of us. It's a man-thing. My Tony explained it to me as he was convincing me to make this fifth baby. Now we'll have one more child than **_his_** family has." And she rubbed her hand over her slightly-protruding belly.

"I wonder if Carlos married this new woman because he got her pregnant – like with his first wife," said Elena as she turned to Maria excitedly. "If that's the case, then maybe your children will become playmates."

I shook my head and said, "No, Celia said that Mama said that Grandma Rosa already confirmed that there's no baby. Grandma is certain that **_this_** time, our Carlito has married for love. Whoever this Stephanie Plum is, she must be someone very, **_very_** special. Celia says it's our duty tonight to find out as much as we can about her."

"Oh, now I **_really_** can't wait to meet her!" squealed Elena.

We all agreed that tonight would be interesting – and **_fun_**!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_(ALL!) All of the people around us they say_**

**_Can they be that close_**

**_Just let me state for the record_**

**_We're giving love in a family dose_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Celia's POV**

Once a knucklehead, always a knucklehead – that's what I say. And my baby brother, Carlos, is a knucklehead through and through. I should know; I practically raised him myself from the time he was a baby. As I hurried through my chores and ran errands for my mother, I began to reminisce about my life when I was a young girl. As the oldest of six children, I always had a lot of responsibility placed upon my shoulders. Honestly, I didn't mind it so much, but it did cause me to grow up pretty quickly.

When Carlito was born – the day **_after_** my tenth birthday, even though I had prayed and prayed that he would be born **_on_** my birthday - my mother entrusted me with caring for him while she tended to my little sisters. My other brother, Nestor, who had really hoped and prayed for a little brother, too, was only eight years old at the time, so he wasn't much of a help. I did the best I could, but, honestly, I know that we all spoiled Carlito rotten.

You see, my parents, Ricky and Gloria Mañoso, were blessed with a new baby every other year for the first ten years of their marriage. I am the oldest, then Nestor, then Maria, Teresa and Elena – or "the triplets" as we call them because they were always together despite their age differences – and finally, Carlos, on whom we all lavished much love and attention. He was the most beautiful baby; he had silky hair and long, thick eyelashes. In fact, until he grew older, lots of people made the mistake of thinking that our Carlito was a girl-child.

We Mañosos are a very close-knit family. My three sisters and I have taken turns working for our father as his receptionists and bookkeepers. Nestor followed our father directly into the family's garage business, and has become a top-notch auto mechanic, too. My parents still live in the modest, mostly Cuban-American neighborhood in Newark, New Jersey, where we grew up. Everyone is happily married with several children and we all live in or near Newark, except for our youngest brother, who is divorced and lives wherever he wants to live.

Truth is, Carlito has always done whatever he wanted to do, even though he used to complain about being bossed around by all of us older siblings when he was a little boy. I thought it was rather odd then that he left college and joined the military, where people bossed him around all the time. As for marriage, when Carlito was younger, he got a white girl pregnant, married her and divorced her all in the same year. Now he's gone off and married another white girl. I wonder how long **_this_** marriage will last.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against anybody. It's just that I had picked out several very nice girls – all of Cuban heritage, of course – for my baby brother to date and he always snubbed my choices. When Carlos was a little boy, my friends and I would fix him up on "play dates" with their younger sisters and cousins. They were always so cute together! It was very easy to imagine the beautiful Latino babies that Carlito and his future wife - of my choosing - would make someday.

Nestor kept warning me that I was messing up Carlos' "street credibility" but I ignored him. What did _**he**_ know about putting boys and girls together? The only thing Nestor ever cared about was whatever was underneath the hood of a car. If it wasn't for me, he'd probably still be single or he would have found a way to marry a car named Mercedes, instead of his lovely wife who – not coincidentally - bears the same name.

The fact is that Nestor rarely had time for Carlos; he was already working with Papa at the garage by the time Carlito was old enough to want to follow his older brother around, but it wasn't safe for a little boy to be underfoot there. Besides, my two brothers couldn't have been more different. Nestor looks and behaves like a carbon copy of our father, a gregarious man, with darker skin and curlier, short-cropped hair, while Carlito was the male version of our mother - finicky, with lighter skin and long, silky tresses that my sisters and I coveted. Life's just not fair!

When I got married and moved out of my parents' house, I kept searching among the sisters of my closest friends for a perfect match for Carlito, but none of the nicer girls would have anything to do with him. Sure, he was good-looking, but unfortunately, when Carlos became a teenager, he also became a knucklehead. That's when he started hanging out with guys who had no ambition other than to stir up trouble. It nearly broke my father's heart when Carlos was caught stealing cars, of all things. The knucklehead said he only liked to drive them around and that he always returned them to their owners, but the guys he was caught with were known to be members of a local gang. My mother cried for weeks when her precious Carlito had to serve time in the juvenile detention facility.

After he was released from juvie, my parents sent Carlos to Miami, Florida, to live with my mother's parents, Papí Súarez and Abuela Blanca, and he attended high school down there. This was both good and bad. Good, because it removed Carlos from the bad boys he'd been hanging around. Bad, because that's when he grew more distant from the rest of us. In fact, I think Carlos is probably closer to our Súarez cousins now than he is to his own siblings. It's a shame!

Anyway, I had just gotten off the phone with my mother – for the tenth time in two hours! Mama was going crazy over all the last-minute party preparations for my father's mother's eightieth birthday celebration at a nearby hotel ballroom and she was driving me crazy, too. I called my sisters and gave them some of the tasks to complete and then I decided to call my baby brother. It had been a while since I'd spoken directly with Carlito and I thought the time had come for us to have a little heart-to-heart chat about his life choices. He didn't pick up his home phone right away, so I dialed his cell phone number and he **_finally_** answered after four rings.

"Yo," he said.

"Yo? What kind of way is that to speak to me?" I snapped. "Don't you 'yo' me, Carlito! Show some respect! Remember, I used to rock you to sleep on my lap!"

"As you always remind me," he grumbled. Then I heard him sigh and he asked, "What do you want, Celia?"

"Again, is this any way to address your oldest sister?" I asked. "Why can't this be a friendly little phone call? I figured that you and your new wife – whom none of us has met – must be getting ready now so that you can make the drive up here to Newark to be on time for Grandma Rosa's party tonight and I wanted to remind you not to wear anything black. I ran into Marty Sanchez a while ago and he told me all about this Stephanie Plum of yours. It seems that she's almost a legend in the Trenton area. You sure know how to pick them, little brother."

"You call this a 'friendly little phone call'?" he asked, sounding rather annoyed.

This time I ignored his tone of voice and said, "Marty also told me that you and your new wife like to dress alike, so I'm warning now that I don't want to see **_either_** of you wearing black tonight!"

"Most tuxedos are black, you know," he said dryly. "Besides, what's it to you, Celia, whether I wear black or not?"

I silently counted to ten and then calmly said, "If you had paid attention to the invitation card – or if you had **_bothered_** to send in your RSVP card – you might have noticed that Grandma Rosa herself has requested that everyone wear **_festive_** colors for the occasion. News flash baby brother: **_Black_** is not a festive color!"

"We're already dressed," he claimed, but I didn't believe him.

"That's why I called you so early," I said. "I had a feeling you hadn't read the invitation closely. If you change clothes now, you'll still be able to make it in time. Personally, I don't care what you wear, but this is Grandma Rosa's party and you at least need to respect **_her_** wishes. Just leave your dark and depressing clothes in Trenton. Understand?"

"Fine," he said after a moment's hesitation. "We won't wear black tonight. Happy, now?"

"Not really," I replied, "There are still many things I must do before the party, so I have to go now. I'll see you two soon enough. Everyone is looking forward to meeting your new wife – so don't be late! Goodbye, Carlito!" Then I disconnected before the knucklehead had a chance to say anything else.

Yes, tonight was going to be a **_very_ **interesting night.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_Living life is fun and we've just begun_**

**_To get our share of the world's delights_**

**_(HIGH!) High hopes we have for the future_**

**_And our goal's in sight_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

"Change of plans, Babe," I whispered into Stephanie's ear as she was putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

I wasn't lying to my sister, Celia, when I told her that Steph and I were dressed already. There was no tuxedo, though. I was wearing a nicely tailored black suit with a black sweater – a very comfortable outfit for me – and Steph was wearing a simple, but elegant black dress with thin straps crossing over her creamy shoulders. Quickly scanning her side of the dressing room, I noticed once again that Ella had done a nice job of providing my Babe with a suitable wardrobe. Thankfully, there were a few dresses in colors other than black hanging there.

Stephanie smiled wickedly at me and said, "If my body didn't feel so blah right now, I'd love to stay right here in Trenton and jump your sexy bones tonight, but we promised your folks that we'd be there for your Grandma's party."

"You think my bones are sexy?" I asked. Then, maintaining eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, I swiftly pulled the hairpins from her upswept hair and watched her straightened tresses tumble down to her shoulders.

Her eyes widened in horror and she exclaimed, "What the-?" But I cut her off with a kiss. At first she didn't want to yield and then she finally kissed me back. Then I unzipped her dress and pushed the straps off of her shoulders to allow the swishy fabric to pool onto the floor. It took every fiber of my being, as well as reminding my body that I still had to wait a few more days for Steph's period to go away, for me not to take my Babe right then and there on the dressing room floor. Growling in frustration, I stepped back from her and we both struggled to catch our breath.

Steph spoke up first. "Carlos, what's this all about? You **_know_** I just spent almost an hour on my hair and makeup! I'm trying my best to look nice for your family. Now it's … it's all ruined!" Tears swam at the corners of her eyes and I felt bad.

"I'm sorry, Babe, but the change of plans is that we can't wear anything black tonight – Grandma's wishes," I said as I shrugged out of my clothes and started scanning the clothes rack for something that wasn't black. "My sister, Celia, just called to remind me about this."

"But you almost always wear black," Steph protested. "Doesn't your family realize this?"

I nodded and replied, "It doesn't matter. Tonight is for Grandma Rosa and I should have remembered that she associates black with mourning and sadness."

"But **_you_** don't look sad in black," Steph continued to protest. "You look … um … you look … well, you know _**exactly**_ how you look in black!"

I arched an eyebrow at her and her face turned pink. Then she dropped her gaze to the floor, biting on her lower lip in that sexy way of hers. My Babe always thought I looked hot in black – and maybe I did – but it was nice to know that what she was thinking had made her blush. Sadly, all of this verbal foreplay was going nowhere tonight. Soon, though …

"Babe," I said with a smile, "I seriously doubt that my grandmother sees me the same way that you do, but we'll wear something else to the party – just in case." I pulled out a blue suit and a white dress shirt with thin blue stripes and began to get dressed again.

Steph stared at her clothing selections until she finally wailed, "I don't know what to wear! I don't know what your family expects! Help!"

She was flapping her arms in frustration and I knew it was time for me to intervene. Reaching around her, I pulled a silver dress and two very different blue dresses off of the rack and held them out to her. "Here, model these for me. Let's see if one of them will complement my suit."

Steph looked at me as if I had grown two heads, but she complied with my request for a private fashion show anyway. This was dangerous for me, too, because I had to control myself while I watched my sexy Babe wriggle into and out of the various outfits. The silver dress was fabulous, but too flashy. It would have been the perfect choice for going out to a Miami dance club, but not to a family party in Newark. Ditto for the first blue dress, which she told me she had bought on her shopping trip with Juanita. If my Babe wore either of those dresses, my male relatives would be drooling over her all night long.

Thankfully, the second blue dress was a winner. It was a little bit longer and more loose-fitting than the mini-dress, and its deeper shade of blue matched up with my suit quite well. The ruffled neckline dipped a little low, but I'd make sure that no one else got a glimpse of the marvelous view underneath. Stephanie also put on a floral-print jacket for warmth and I approved the entire outfit.

"What am I supposed to do about my hair, Carlos?" she asked as she frowned at her reflection in the mirror. "You ruined my classy look and I don't have time to fix it. It's hopeless!"

I pulled a few small, familiar devices out of one of my dresser drawers and held them out to her. "I actually wanted you to wear your hair down tonight anyway so that you can wear this wire and earpiece." Gonzo had given me some of the latest high tech spy gear on the market, which would suit my purposes quite well tonight.

Steph stared at the devices and then gazed up into my eyes. "Are we … working tonight?"

I shook my head and explained, "No we're not working tonight, Babe, but practically everyone at the party will be speaking Spanish around you all night long. I want to know what they're saying and, when it's safe for me to communicate with you; I'll let you know what they're saying, too."

"So … we're **_spying_** on your family?" Steph asked in disbelief.

"No," I said, "This is for your own protection, as well as for my own sanity. Trust me; my sisters will try anything to separate us so that they can interrogate you to their satisfaction. They're very curious – and nosy – and they're not the only ones. All my cousins and aunts and who knows who else will attempt to pry information out of you. I want to hear every twist and turn of any conversation between you and my female relatives. Also, I want to be able to translate for you so that you'll be able to understand at least a little bit of what's going on around you."

"That sounds a lot like work," she said skeptically. "Are you sure about this? Won't they be mad if they figure out what we're doing?"

"They won't figure it out, Babe," I assured her. "Just don't push your hair behind your ears or lift it off of your neck for any reason – not even if it gets hot and stuffy in the ballroom."

"Ballroom?" Steph's face lost a bit of color. "The party's at a ballroom? Will there be … dancing?"

"You can dance," I assured her. "You'll be fine."

"What if I've forgotten how to dance?"

"Babe."

"I'm serious!"

I just shook my head. "After our time in Miami, you should have some confidence in your abilities. Babe, you **_can_** dance – in fact, thanks to my cousin Gonzo, practically everyone knows that you and I dance together rather well. Grandma Rosa loves to dance and she loves to watch other people while they dance, so, yes, there will be lots of dancing tonight."

"Will I have to dance with other men?" she asked. "I don't think I can keep an earpiece and wire hidden if I get twirled around a lot."

I thought about this for a moment and then said, "This is a tiny, state-of-the-art, wireless earpiece, Steph. You'll be wearing a smaller device than you normally wear in your bra, too. **_I'll_ **be the one wearing the bulkier transmitter-receiver, but I don't plan on removing my suit jacket; my mother hates to see a gun on me."

Steph plunked down on the leather bench in the dressing room to change her shoes and I heard her mumble, "Omigod! I can't believe we're practically going undercover with your family. This is insane!"

I fastened the devices and wires in all the right places and gently kissed my Babe on the lips. "We'll be fine, querida," I murmured into her ear. "Just relax and try to have fun. Now, let's get going before we really are late to the party."

Tonight was going to be interesting – and, no doubt, _**very**_ frustrating.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_(WE!) No we don't get depressed_**

**_Here's what we call our golden rule_**

**_Have faith in you and the things you do_**

**_You won't go wrong_**

**_This is our family Jewel_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Grandma Rosa's POV**

I never expected to live to see the ripe old age of eighty. In fact, it was a shock when my dear husband, Nestor, died before I did, and I continue to be surprised every day when I wake up and I'm still on this earth. I don't mind spending more time with my family here, but I long to be reunited with all of my loved ones who have passed on to their heavenly reward. Ah, well, even though I'm officially old now, I am determined to live each day to the fullest!

One of the best things about still being alive is that I have now been around long enough to see my children and most of my grandchildren grow up and start families of their own. I gave birth to five boys and two girls before Nestor and I came from Cuba to the United States. One of our sons died the same day he was born and one daughter died of malaria when she was a child in Cuba. My fourth son died over in Viet Nam, leaving behind a wife and two sons. I now have twenty-five grandchildren – and most of them were married in the Church by my brother, Javier, who is a priest. I also have more than thirty great-grandchildren and three great-great-grandchildren. Yes, it's easy to see that life has been very good to me, especially when I'm surrounded by almost all of my offspring.

It wasn't **_my_** idea to have this party to celebrate my eightieth birthday. Honestly, I don't like to be reminded of my advanced age, but my children convinced me that it would be fun to gather everyone together for an evening of dancing and good food and they were right. The Cuban food was hot and spicy and the salsa music was loud – just the way I like it. I truly enjoyed watching everybody dancing and having a great time.

Of course, the couple I had the most fun watching was my grandson, Carlos, and his new wife, Stephanie. Whenever they weren't dancing together, Carlos' sisters surrounded their new sister-in-law and spirited her away into the company of their female relatives while their brother was forced to watch from across the room. Needless to say, after the third round of such antics, Carlos did his best to keep Stephanie on the dance floor as much as possible. It was delightful to see him convince her time and again that she wasn't too tired to keep on dancing with him. I almost felt sorry for the poor girl, but I figured that she knew what she was getting into when she married my grandson, so she'd just have to deal with it.

Carlos always has been a mystery to our family. I think it's because he takes after his mother, Gloria, and not his father - my son - Ricky. I was surprised when my third son won the heart of the spoiled girl from a wealthy Cuban-American family from Miami. Gloria was the younger sister of Ricky's boss and I feared that he would get fired from his job as an auto mechanic when their affair became public. Eventually, the proud and haughty Súarez family accepted the union, but I think it was because Gloria and Ricky lived so far away from the majority of them. Of course, after Carlos had a run-in with the law, Gloria shipped him off to her family to complete his high-school years and he never has seemed to fit back into the Mañoso side since he returned to New Jersey.

Another one of my grandsons who intrigues me is my daughter Anita's oldest child, Lester. Carlos and Lester served together in the Army, and when Carlos started his own company in Trenton a few years ago, Lester went to work for him. Earlier this evening, Lester confided to me that Carlos had accidentally injured him in a job-related incident. Obviously, the injury wasn't preventing him from enjoying himself; Lester's date for the party was a newly-divorced girl from the neighborhood and they looked like they were having almost as much fun dancing as Carlos and Stephanie. I always thought that both Lester and Carlos were perpetual "playboys" and I had serious doubts that either of them would ever settle down. Now that Carlos is married, perhaps there's still hope for Lester.

My son Ricky startled me out of my deep thoughts when he came up behind me and asked, **"How are you feeling, Mama? Are you enjoying the party?"**

**"Oh, yes," **I answered. **"Everything is wonderful!"** And I really meant it.

**"I see that you've been watching every move that Carlos and Stephanie have made this evening,"** he said. **"Aren't they beautiful together?"**

I nodded and replied, **"Yes, they are a lovely couple and I predict that their children will be gorgeous – when they come along, of course. But Ricky, your daughters are behaving very badly toward their new sister-in-law. Have you seen the way they've gone after Stephanie every time she and Carlos take a break from dancing? The poor girl can hardly catch her breath. It's shameful! What's she going to think about her new family? She's going to think we're a bunch of ruthless vultures, that's what! You should tell them to leave her alone!"**

**"Yes, Mama,"** Ricky agreed. His face had turned red with embarrassment and I knew that he would put a stop to his daughters' ill-mannered behavior without delay.

Tonight had been very interesting and enjoyable, but it was time for some of the "fun" to come to an end.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_We are family_**

**_I got all my sisters with me_**

**_We are family_**

**_Get up ev'rybody and sing_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

Until last night, I was certain that I had only one older sister – Valerie Plum Kloughn – but now it seems that I have gained four more – Celia, Maria, Teresa and Elena. Valerie has four daughters – two by her first husband and two by her second husband – and she's currently pregnant with her fifth child. Everyone hopes she'll have a boy this time, especially our father, who longs for a grandson. If Val and her husband, Albert, do manage to have a boy, I fear for the poor tyke. Ranger's four older sisters made his childhood quite difficult and now that we're married, I can see why we won't be spending much time in Newark.

Dancing to all those Latino songs with my Batman was quite the thrill, but dealing with the "bat-sisters" was no picnic. Every time I tried to rest between songs, my new sisters-in-law would grab hold of me and take me over to the tables where the other women were sitting and chatting – mostly in Spanish. Of course, they did switch to English when they asked me direct questions. They _**said**_ they just wanted to get to know me better. Yeah, right. These ladies' interrogation skills could put the entire Trenton Police Department to shame.

I was extremely grateful for my Spanish-speaking, people-watching husband's voice interpreting the people around me. Although most of his relatives were nice to me, a few of Ranger's older female cousins made snide remarks in Spanish while they smiled pleasantly at me and several of his male cousins made remarks which he refused to translate. I suspect that they were of a suggestive nature because I could hear Ranger growling quite clearly.

One of Ranger's cousins asked, "So … was there any particular reason you and Carlito decided to elope instead of letting our Great-Uncle Javier, the priest, marry you **_properly_** in the Church?"

Ranger's detached voice in my ear explained, "That's my cousin, Glorimar. She and some of the others have been gossiping in Spanish behind your back and wondering whether or not you might be pregnant. She really wants to know if there's a baby on the way." I had to stifle an eye roll. Jeez! I could have figured out **_that_** much on my own.

Nevertheless, I smiled at her and answered as smoothly as I could, "Well, even though we're both Catholic, Carlos and I have been married and divorced before, and I just didn't have it in me to do the big church wedding again. I'm sure you can understand. Of course, I meant no offense to your great-uncle and all, but this is the first I've heard of there being a priest in the family." Then I briefly glanced across the room to where Carlos was sitting and watching me and he smiled.

Glorimar looked disappointed, but she replied, "Oh, well, he's Grandma Rosa's brother – my father is named after him. I guess Padre Javier **_is_** kind of old now … but … um, I wish you both the best. Welcome to the family, Stephanie." And then she disappeared into the crowd.

Whereas most of the women's queries about my life were rather subtle, Ranger's oldest sister, Celia, was fairly ruthless with her questions. "You and Carlos dance very well together," she remarked and then she asked, "So … how did you learn to dance like us?" … "Have you dated other Latino men in the past?" … "Or … have you and Carlos been dating for a while longer than he would have us believe? He's always been so sneaky, that one." … "Tell me, Stephanie, don't you think our Carlito is sneaky?"

I heard Ranger growl again and I had to stifle a laugh. Only an older sister knows how to "push your buttons" in such a way. Believe me, I know. I've experienced all kinds of back-handed compliments and snide remarks from Valerie throughout the years. She's mellowed out quite a bit, though, since her first marriage fell apart in such a spectacular way and she gained fifty pounds.

There was a moment when I thought Ranger might leap across the room to strangle his sister, but luckily, he calmed down as I explained to Celia about taking a few dancing lessons from their cousins, Val and Cat. Obviously, she knew about their highly successful dance studio and club down in Miami and my answers satisfied her. I ignored the comments about Ranger's sneakiness. There was just no point in going down that path, especially since I was wearing his earpiece and wire and he was eavesdropping on everything one of my conversations. Sneaky? Celia didn't know the half of it!

Honestly, the only thing that saved my sanity and kept my temper from flaring up was Ranger's constant and soothing voice in my ear. He could hear almost everything that anyone said to me and this enabled him to translate all the Spanish, as well as to explain the true meanings behind the questions the Mañoso women asked me. This kept me from being too embarrassed and helped me to form sufficiently vague answers to the most intrusive inquiries about our personal life.

After the third round of "friendly questions," Ranger kept me out on the dance floor until I simply couldn't stand it anymore. My body was on fire from all the places Ranger's hands had roamed while he guided me through several different dances, but my feet were so sore that I practically begged him to take me home. It truly was a relief when Grandma Rosa beckoned us over to her and gave me a big hug and kiss. She spoke directly to Ranger in Spanish, of course, and he replied in English.

"Yes, Grandma, it's been a very long day for me and Stephanie," Ranger said.

**"Then you should take your poor, tired wife home and let her get her rest, Carlos,"** Grandma Rosa said. **"Newlywed or not, I know this is a trying time of the month for her and I give you my blessings to leave now."**

Ranger's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Are you sure, Grandma?"

She nodded and smiled mischievously. **"Yes, I'm sure. It's time for me to say my farewells now. This party has been very nice, but I'm tired, too. Since you're driving that tiny sports car of yours, perhaps you can convince your father to take me home sooner rather than later. Let the young and the restless – like your cousin, Lester - dance the night away!"**Then she gestured toward the side of the ballroom's dance floor.

I recognized Lester's name and we all turned to observe Ranger's cousin as he danced a sensuous bachata with his voluptuous date. If that man was suffering from any injured ribs, I certainly couldn't tell. Of course, several of the other couples were dancing just as sexily, but Lester and Sheila **_really_** needed to get a room – and the sooner the better! I could hardly wait to tease my new cousin-in-law about his behavior when we all returned to Trenton.

Ranger smirked and inclined his head slightly and then he told me to stay with Grandma Rosa while he went off to find his father. I watched him as he disappeared through the crowd and then I glanced out of the corners of my eyes, wary of another assault from his sisters. Grandma Rosa smiled widely at me and patted my hand in a comforting gesture. Then she nodded toward the cluster of women who were sitting at nearby tables and she whispered something to me in Spanish that sounded a lot like "Relax. They won't molest you while you're with me." Sure enough, none of the other Mañoso women approached me while I was sitting with their honored matriarch. Grandma Rosa definitely was protecting me!

When Ranger returned with his father, they all exchanged what I assumed to be farewells in Spanish. Ranger's mother came over to me and thanked me for being willing to come to the party on such short notice, especially so soon after our elopement. She said she hoped to spend more time with me in the future so that we could get to know each other better and she even expressed an interest in meeting my parents at their earliest convenience.

Grandma Rosa hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks and whispered into my ear in heavily accented English, "I like you, Estefania. You make my Carlos happy. This is good. May God bless you both!" Then she disappeared with my in-laws in tow. The last I saw of them, they were headed for the microphone in front of the bandstand.

"Time to go, Babe," Ranger whispered as he led me toward the exit door.

All in all, it was a very interesting night – exhausting, but fun, too.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_We are family_**

**_I got all my sisters with me_**

**_We are family_**

**_Get up ev'rybody and sing_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Celia's POV**

It's official! We gained a new sister tonight. Actually, Maria, Teresa, Elena and I were quite impressed with Carlos's wife. Even though I had heard that Grandma Rosa had given her approval of the mysterious Stephanie Plum, I still wanted to check things out for myself. My long-time friend, Marty Sanchez, had told me that Miss Plum was quite a woman and now I believed him. Despite her reputation as a "disaster magnet," I found her to be pleasant and pretty and clever, even if she isn't a Latina. None of our questions tonight seemed to bother Stephanie and I was astonished by her poise all night long.

When our Papa interrupted our friendly conversation and danced a cha-cha-cha with her, we knew that Stephanie had just become one of us. Papa only ever danced with Mama, Grandma Rosa, his sister Anita and his daughters, including Nestor's wife. Stephanie was able to keep up with Papa during the fast-paced song and when it was over, Carlito smoothly swept her into his arms and they danced to a slower tango. It was obvious to everyone who watched them moving together on the dance floor that those two really enjoyed being with each other. Before the newlyweds left the party, I was able to stop them at the door and warmly welcome Stephanie into our circle of Mañoso sisters. Yes, I must admit that our Carlito has chosen well this time.

And yes, tonight was a **_very_** interesting night, indeed.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**_We are family_**

**_I got all my sisters with me_**

**_We are family_**

**_Get up ev'rybody and sing_**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

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A/N: Yep! We can choose our friends and loved ones, but we can't choose our family of origin. Luckily, our heroes really don't have it so bad. My family is pretty close. We all went to summer camp together and we enjoyed the Independence Day holiday weekend in our nation's capitol. Then we celebrated my son's 15th birthday and tried not to melt in the sweltering heat. There hasn't been any rain in my area for over two weeks and my poor lawn and garden look so sad and brown. Unfortunately, water usage restrictions are preventing me from spending much time trying to revive my dying plants, so I guess I'll just have to stay indoors and get back into my writing. ;) Again, I'm very grateful for all your encouraging reviews and now that I'm back at home, I hope to update this story a bit faster, so that I can begin working on the other stories I've thought about while I was away. I look forward to your thoughts on this latest chapter. Thanks! :D


	30. Chapter 30

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: First of all, I want to acknowledge "Ryl" for sending in the 600****th**** review for this story! Thanks again, Ryl! And thank you to everyone who takes the time to let me know what you think of my writing. I truly appreciate your input, as well as your encouragement, and I will answer all of your reviews as soon as possible. I know it's been a while since I last updated; when I got home after summer camp, I thought I'd be able to stay on top of my updates, but RL intervened once again. Anyway, n****ow that Ranger and Stephanie have fulfilled their legal and social obligations for the week, it's time for a relaxing weekend. Then again, this is Ranger and Steph we're talking about, so who knows what's in store for them? Enjoy! :)**

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I closed the door and sat in a chair opposite him. He was at his desk, and I was struck by the same thought I had every time I came into his office. Ranger always looked at ease, but he never actually looked like he belonged behind a desk. He looked like he should be scaling a wall, or jumping out of a helicopter, or kicking the crap out of some bad guy.

_"Do you like doing this?" I asked him. "Do you like running this security firm?"_

_"I don't love it," he said. "But I don't hate it, either. It's a phase in my life. It's not so different from being a company commander in the military. Better work conditions. Less sand."_

_Finger Lickin' Fifteen_

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Chapter 30: Weekend Wanderers

**Ranger's POV**

On most Saturday mornings, when I'm not out on a mission, I don't set the alarm on my bedside clock. Today was no different. After the past few weeks that my Babe and I had endured, I figured we deserved to sleep in this weekend. Unfortunately for me, my body's internal clock woke me up at the crack of dawn anyway and I just couldn't force myself to go back to sleep.

Of course, it might have been easier to sleep in if Stephanie's soft and sexy body hadn't been sprawled across my bare chest. I don't understand how she does it, but my Babe always manages to use me as a pillow during her nocturnal tossing and turning. I'm not complaining, though, especially because I've spent so many cold and lonely nights sleeping in the dung-heaps of the world. It's a miracle that I can wake up next to this intriguing woman who is now my wife.

Disentangling my body from Steph's without waking her was always tricky, but I knew I had to get out of the bed before my libido overrode my common sense. She only stirred a little bit when I kissed her on my way out and I envied her ability to sleep so soundly. Then again, I suppose I was responsible for her exhaustion; I had worn out Steph on the dance floor at Grandma Rosa's party. Yes, my Babe was a strong woman with lots of stamina, but she wasn't used to that kind of activity. Meanwhile, it was time for me to work off my excess energy with a good physical workout.

It was raining again and I didn't feel like getting cold and wet, so I ran indoors on the treadmill instead. The only other man in the gym when I got there was Cal Hansen. This was good because it gave me a chance to tell him that I had passed on the information about his cousin, Linda, to Joe Morelli. Cal merely nodded his acknowledgement and then added another ten pounds to the load he was lifting. After my run, we sparred for thirty or so minutes. Cal's specialty was Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and we rolled around a lot until I was fairly exhausted. I truly hoped Morelli would treat Cal's cousin with respect, or else he'd be in big trouble.

On my way back up to the apartment, I wandered onto the fifth floor to get an update. Vince, Binkie, and Brett were on monitor duty and all was quiet for a Saturday morning. There had been an attempted break-in on one of the commercial accounts during the previous night, but the police had captured the would-be thieves before they could escape. That was the fifth such incident in the past week where no loss of property occurred. This put a smile on my face because it meant that RangeMan was rebuilding its good reputation after the fiasco with those punk kids who tried to ruin me.

"Hey, Ranger," Vince called out to me as I was headed toward the elevator. "Wait up! I got a question for you, sir."

I nodded and said, "Speak."

Vince hesitated for a second and then asked in a low tone of voice, "Do women really prefer the full-up wedding thing over a simple elopement?"

Whoa! That certainly wasn't what I had expected and I raised an eyebrow in response.

Vince continued to rattle on in a hushed voice, "I mean, I don't have any sisters, but Binkie and Brett both do and they told me that women really like church weddings with the flowers and the fluffy dresses and crap and, well, sir, I don't know hardly anything about this stuff. I just know that I love Connie Rosolli and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I figured that since you just got married and Tank is talking about eloping, and since _**your**_ ladies are friends with _**my**_ lady, I thought you might have a better idea of what I should do."

So, Vince and Connie really were getting serious. It seemed that several members of my workforce were going to start settling down to a certain extent. I'd even heard that Vivian had agreed to marry Bobby, even though theirs would be a long engagement. Although I was happy for these guys, I also knew that I'd have to get my business manager to start looking into the costs of some better life insurance policies, as well as family medical plans. That thought sent an unpleasant shiver down my spine, and then it took me another moment to come up with a coherent answer to Vince's initial question.

"You should be talking to Connie about this," I said, wondering how I had become the company's relationship counselor so quickly. First Tank and now Vince had asked me for advice. Dios! I guess my men really hadn't known just how messed up I've been all these years.

Vince nodded and said, "Hooah, sir. But I thought that since you've known Connie for a longer time than I have – working with her boss and Stephanie and all – that you'd have a better idea of what a woman like her would prefer."

I shook my head. "This is the second marriage for both me and Stephanie, so you can't gauge anything by us. As for Tank and Lula; well, everyone saw what a disaster their almost-wedding would have been. I'm sure they'll be better off by eloping."

Vince nodded. "I never could see Tank wearing a tux. Maybe his old army uniform, but not the fancy stuff. Regular guys like us should keep it simple, right?"

I considered this for a moment and asked, "Vince, you know that Connie Rosolli isn't an ordinary girl from a regular family, don't you?"

"Yeah," Vince said dreamily, "She's something special, alright."

I shook my head. "No, that's not what I mean. Look, I thought you were part-Italian, that you grew up in New Jersey. Doesn't your family still live in the area?"

Vince shrugged. "My grandparents were from Italy, but they settled out in California and my dad wasn't very big on the whole Italian heritage thing, except for when the 'Rocky' movies came out. And the only reason we lived in New Jersey was because my father was stationed with the Coast Guard down at Cape May a bunch of times and he eventually retired from there. Besides, my mother's family was originally from Puerto Rico, so I know more about menudo than marinara."

"Here's the deal," I said carefully, "Connie's family is… very well-connected."

"You mean, like in 'GoodFellas' and the 'Godfather' movies – _**that**_ kind of connected?" Vince asked.

I nodded.

"Oh, crap," he said quietly. "I'm really screwed, ain't I?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "But not just because of the family connection thing."

Now it was Vince's turn to raise an eyebrow at me.

I sighed and continued to explain, "Vince, girls from those kinds of families - especially ones from the Burg - usually have big weddings. _**Really**_ big weddings. If I was you, I'd erase the word 'elopement' from my vocabulary. That would be a major insult to such a family, and trust me; you do _**not**_ want to insult Connie's family."

Vince rubbed his hand across his face. "I never thought about it like that."

"Good thing you asked," I said.

"Good thing," he nodded.

Then Vince, looking quite dazed and slightly green in the face, turned away from me and walked slowly back into the control room. Poor guy, I thought. Vince had been one of my best soldiers back when we were stationed together in the Ranger Battalion, and I was sure that he would rather be bogged down in the nastiest, deadliest firefight in the jungle than to have to endure a big, Italian _**family**_ wedding in New Jersey. Honestly, the firefight probably would be safer. I just shook my head and went upstairs.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

Mmm. Saturday morning, Ranger made good on his promise to let me sleep in. I was vaguely aware of him kissing me before he went off to do his insane exercise routine, but I know I fell back asleep instantly and stayed asleep for the next two hours until my full bladder forced me out of bed. Once I was up, though, I decided to take a shower and then forage in the kitchen for something to eat.

"Good morning, Rex!" I greeted my furry little pet as I wandered into the kitchen and started to look for something to feed him. Spying a box of granola clusters on one of the cupboard shelves, I poured out a few chunks of the stuff and dropped them into Rex's cage.

My loyal hamster peeked out of his soup can and twitched his whiskers at me. I'd like to think that Rex was smiling at me and telling me how glad he was to be back on Ranger's kitchen counter. It was way more serene here than at my parents' house, especially since there weren't any grandkids running around in this apartment. Of course, the snacks were better here, too.

"I know, I know," I continued to chatter happily," It was only a couple of weeks ago that I told you not to get used to being here in Ranger's apartment, but I take all that back. You see, he and I just got married which makes Ranger your sort-of dad now. This means that you'll never be in mortal danger ever again. And the best thing is that _**Ella**_ is part of the deal here, so you'll always have good food and fresh bedding! Nice, huh?"

Rex stared at me with his beady little black eyes for a moment before he scooped up the chunks of granola and stuffed them into his cheeks. Then he burrowed back through the cedar shavings in his cage and into his soup can. I could tell that he was very content to be here. I know I certainly was.

I pulled out the peanut butter and bread, and sliced up a banana to make a sandwich for my breakfast. Sure, I knew I could have called Ella and she would have been happy to make a wonderful, healthy, well-balanced meal for me, but I really didn't want to bother her this time. And I figured I could wait until Ranger returned to place an order for coffee. Luckily, there was a carton of orange juice in the fridge, so I poured a glass and took everything into the dining room.

After I finished my breakfast, I placed my dishes in the dishwasher and wandered into the living room. Peeking through the blinds to check the weather, I saw that it was another rainy day. Ugh! I hated the idea of being cooped up inside all weekend, especially since Ranger and I would need to wait at least one more day before we could make good use of such horrible weather. I clicked on the large plasma screen TV and watched cartoons for fifteen or so minutes. Although Scooby Doo's antics usually made me laugh, I quickly began to feel bored.

Suddenly, I realized that this was the first time in a long while that I'd been awake and alone in Ranger's apartment. Of course, now that this was _**our**_ apartment, I no longer felt like I was snooping. Or, at least, that's what I told myself as I perused the extensive collection of CDs and DVDs on the shelves in the living room. Not surprisingly, Mozart and Beethoven figured prominently in the musical selections and there were lots of action movies, such as "Batman Begins" and all of the Spiderman films. Sadly, there weren't any chick flicks or heavy metal CDs. I began to doubt whether Ranger and I would be able to mesh our vastly different preferences in entertainment.

Since there wasn't anything that I wanted to listen to or watch, I wandered into the combination den and home office and turned on the computer. The last time I had logged on to Ranger's computer, it had been to snoop around in his files until I found the photos of the then-unidentified Edward Scrog. That had been a very bad time for all of us and I shuddered at the memories. Now, I only wanted to check my e-mail to see if anyone had sent me any important messages during the past week while I was off getting married. Not surprisingly, there wasn't much, other than the usual spam ads for diet pills and discounted Viagra.

Sighing, I logged off and wondered when Ranger would return from his workout. I didn't really know what to do with myself while I waited, so I started opening the desk drawers to see what was inside of them. No surprises there, either; everything was neat and tidy. All of the pencils were sharpened and there weren't any miscellaneous scraps of paper clogging the drawers. There was, however, a book with a scary-looking cover staring up at me when I opened the bottom drawer.

I carefully lifted out the book and discovered that it was some sort of a military scrapbook. Upon closer examination I realized that the smiling skull was wearing an army –style camouflage cap and that the slightly gruesome image was superimposed over a brightly colored shield and crossed knives. An arch with the word "RANGER" in gold letters spread above the top of the image and the words "LEAD THE WAY" and "UNITED STATES ARMY" were written underneath the skull. Naturally, I couldn't resist looking through the scrapbook.

There were military photos and metal emblems and embroidered patches on each page and it was plain to see that whoever had put together the scrapbook really knew and cared about Ranger. In fact, the whole thing looked like a farewell gift of sorts to the former Army Major Ricardo Carlos Mañoso. I was intrigued by all the images of soldiers – many of whom I recognized immediately. I was fascinated by the many photos of soldiers jumping out of airplanes, too. It seemed that my Batman had lots of practice flying through the air, even if he did have a parachute strapped to his back. Suddenly, I was very jealous of him.

I was so engrossed in flipping through Ranger's scrapbook, that I didn't hear the Man of Mystery when he returned from his workout. Not that I was doing anything wrong, but I wasn't sure that my new husband would want me digging through his desk drawers and pawing through his personal, private memories. Although I felt his presence a moment before he placed a gentle kiss on the nape of my neck, I still shrieked, bonked heads with Ranger and dropped the scrapbook onto the floor.

"Carlos! Omigod!" I gasped for air and said, "You nearly scared me to death! What would you have done if I'd had a real heart attack, huh?"

He rubbed his forehead and shrugged. "Bobby's downstairs, but I would have given you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until he arrived. That is, unless your head had knocked me out, too." A tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

I gave him a Burg girl death glare and fumed as I scooped up the book. "That is _**so**_ not funny and you know it!"

"Sorry, Babe," Ranger chuckled. "But you've got to become more aware of your surroundings - especially if you're going to be snooping through someone else's things."

I lifted my chin and said, "I wasn't snooping. You said that this was _**our**_ apartment now, so technically, I was looking through _**our**_ desk and I, um, found this." I held out the scrapbook to him and he lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Did you find any photos of yourself in there?" he asked after a moment.

Okay, we both knew that I had been snooping. Of course I'd been snooping! I'm a nosy person. Ranger knows this; _**everyone**_ knows this about me. And since I'd never served a day in the military, obviously, this was not _**our**_ scrapbook. It didn't seem to bother Ranger very much, but I felt the need to apologize anyway.

"I'm sorry," I said and he finally accepted the scrapbook from my hands.

Ranger flipped through a few of the pages and began to point out certain photos to me. "This is Lester in his gear, ready for a mission. He and some of the other guys put this book together for me when I resigned from active duty," he explained. "Here's my Army Ranger class graduation photo. That's me right there under the tip of the sign. I'm sure that you recognized photos of several of the men in my current organization, too."

I nodded and said, "These are some great pictures. Who took them?"

"Mostly Lester," Ranger replied. "He's got a good eye and a steady hand."

"Wow!" I said, truly impressed. "Who would have guessed?"

Ranger grinned slightly and said, "We're all full of surprises."

I pointed at one of the photos of a group of men wearing their dressier uniforms and asked, "What do all these metal things mean?"

"Those are the Army ranks and insignia. They tell you which unit a soldier is assigned to and what achievements he's earned," Ranger replied. "This arched patch is what every man who has completed Ranger school may wear."

"It's got your name on it," I said.

"My _**nickname**_," he corrected. "Actually, it's an honor to be a Ranger, so I don't mind. Our motto is 'Rangers lead the way!' and I try my best to live up to that every day."

"I can attest to that," I said with a grin. Then I pointed at the photo again. "It's so colorful! What does it all mean?"

"The shield here and the patch, or flash, on the tan berets mean that these guys are assigned to the 75th Ranger Regiment – my old unit," Ranger explained. "Rangers used to wear black berets, but when the higher-ups decided to let the whole Army wear them, we switched to tan berets. It was a bitter decision. The guys wearing green berets are in the Special Forces."

"Like John Wayne in that war movie?" I interrupted.

Ranger looked like he was trying hard not to sigh. "That was Hollywood's take on it."

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. "You mean it didn't really happen the way the movie portrayed it?"

"Not exactly," he said and the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smirk.

"I thought you were in Special Forces," I said.

Ranger patiently continued to explain everything to me. "Army Rangers are part of the Special Forces, but we have our own special insignia. See this patch and this shield with the dagger and crossed arrows? The SF motto, 'De Oppresso Liber' means 'From Oppression We Will Liberate Them.' The Ranger Regiment's motto is 'Sua Sponte' which means 'Of Their Own Accord' in Latin."

"The Army really likes Latin, doesn't it?" I remarked.

"E Pluribus Unum, Babe," Ranger said. "It's a national thing."

I scowled at him and he chuckled. Then I asked, "What about the guys wearing red berets? Who are they?"

"Those are paratroopers," Ranger answered. "They jump out of aircraft, like other SF soldiers, but they're in other units - like the 82nd Airborne Division. See right here, everybody's wearing jump wings." And he pointed out the little metal parachutes-with-wings emblems on the soldiers' uniforms.

"Some of them look really different," I observed.

Ranger nodded. "Those badges are for a variety of military skills."

I flipped back a few pages until I found Ranger's official military photo and asked, "So, what's on your chest here? What does it all mean?"

Then Ranger explained to me that because he had parachuted out of aircraft over 2000 times, including three jumps into combat zones, he was allowed to wear a really fancy-looking badge with stars on it. He also had something called a Military Freefall Parachutist Badge and an Air Assault Badge, which meant that he could jump out of high-flying planes or slide down ropes hanging off the sides of helicopters. Finally, there was something he called a Combat Infantrymen's Badge, as well as all of his actual medals for bravery and such. Everything looked so impressive! It made me feel very proud.

"You know," I said, "This is the most you've ever said about your military service, and yet I still feel like I hardly know anything. Is there more that you can tell me?"

Ranger shook his head. "Not a whole lot. Of course, the photos in this book are unclassified, but many of the stories behind the scenes are things I cannot share with you." Then he pointed to a photo of a place with pointy granite columns and said, "This is the Ranger Memorial. The names of some of my comrades who died on missions are listed there. I can't tell you about most of those situations."

"Or you'd have to kill me?" I wise-cracked.

"Something like that," he said.

"Do you miss it?" I asked.

"The Army?" He shrugged again. "Sometimes." Then he sighed and pulled out a loose photo of him dressed in black combat gear. "Look at this, Babe."

"What is it?" I asked. "It doesn't look the same as rest of what's in your scrapbook."

Ranger nodded. "That's because it's not. It's from a more recent mission. Lester shot the original photo, cropped out all the 'incriminating' scenery, and gave it to me. He calls it 'Hollywood Ranger' because it looks so posed."

My mind had started to buzz. "A more recent mission, you said?" I asked him.

Setting aside the scrapbook, Ranger tugged me into an embrace and said, "Babe, there's something I need to tell you."

I immediately tensed up at his words, but I didn't resist the warmth of having his solid arms wrapped around me. Luckily for me, Ranger was wearing a dry pair of sweats over his sweaty body this time, so we didn't have a repeat of what happened in Florida when he "slimed" me. His scent was musky and manly and I liked it, even though I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to like whatever it was that he needed to tell me.

"W-what is it?" I asked, suddenly nervous.

"I couldn't tell you before, but now that we're married, you need to know before I get called out for my next ... mission." He paused and took a deep breath and said, "Although I'm not in the Army anymore, I still work for the government. I'm a federal agent, Babe - a paramilitary operations officer - and I've been one ever since I came back to Jersey."

Somehow, I wasn't too surprised by this revelation, but I snapped my gaze upward and asked, "Do you mean, like, FBI?"

"No," he said. "More like CIA, but there are lots of federal agencies, Babe. My men are mostly independent contractors, but I usually answer to the folks down at Langley, Virginia."

"Usually?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Sometimes other agencies request the use of my … skills."

"Oh," was all I could think of to say.

"Becoming a bounty hunter and then a security expert were important steps in establishing my overall cover," he continued to explain. "Owning RangeMan allows me to take on missions where no one would suspect that I am what I am."

A disturbing thought pulled at the edge of my brain and I blurted out, "Does Joe know about this?"

Ranger nodded and suddenly, a lot of things began to make sense. Joe had always given me the impression that he thought Ranger was a "loose cannon" – someone who couldn't be trusted. He usually thought that all of the feds were cocky bastards who only wanted the glory for themselves. Oddly enough, though, Officer Morelli seemed to trust the Man of Mystery when they worked on the same criminal cases. Now I understood knew why. It really must have galled him to see Ranger working "under the radar" all the time and yet not demanding the spotlight for his efforts.

Nevertheless, I really struggled not to be angry at both of the men in my life for keeping such a huge secret from me. How dare they pretend to live and work in one world, when they actually lived and worked in a world that had been completely hidden from me? And although I understood the need to protect national security and all that, I was quite irritated. Ranger must have sensed my mood and he held me tighter.

"Stephanie," he began, "I had very good reasons for not being completely honest with you. Morelli did, too. There are many layers of security involved here and you simply didn't have a 'need to know' at the time."

"But … _**now**_ I do?" I gently pushed away from him and stared into his dark eyes. "I'm trying my best to understand about your mysterious ways and all, but I just can't believe that Joe actually _**lied**_ to me for so long!"

"I'm sure he was trying to protect you – in his own way," Ranger said.

"I'm not a child!" I fumed.

"Now _**that's**_ the truth," Ranger said with a grin and his arms drew me closer in for a nice, long kiss. After he stopped his sensual assault on my lips he softly said, "You're my Wonder Woman, my wife, my partner, Babe. And I've informed my higher-ups that I want you with me as much as possible. Your security clearance is already in the works and, once my bosses give the okay, you'll be allowed to accompany me and even assist me on certain cases."

"Omigod!" I exclaimed. "Am I going to be a secret agent, too?"

Ranger chuckled and shook his head. "Secret, yes. Agent, not so much."

"What does _**that**_ mean?" I asked, struggling once again not to get angry over all these changes.

"You're a civilian, Babe," he explained. "Without the proper training, there's only so much you can do."

"But you said I have great instincts," I practically whined.

"You do." He nodded. "And we'll be making good use of them. But let's be honest, Babe; you don't like guns of any kind and you refuse to get into proper physical condition. Therefore, your involvement has to be limited to the safest missions, of which there are many – like Cantrell and Galarza."

"So, even though I tackled one fugitive to the ground and captured another one who had eluded the authorities for a long time – both last week, mind you - you're saying I'm not enough of a _**badass**_ to go on the really tough missions?" I asked, knowing that I sounded more annoyed than I had a right to be.

"Babe," was all Ranger said in response.

******x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

When I returned to the apartment after my workout, I was surprised to find Stephanie flipping through the pages of my old Army scrapbook. Getting bonked in the face with the back of her head was not what I had intended when I kissed her irresistible neck, but I guess my approach had been rather quiet. I hadn't meant to startle her, though. Obviously, my Babe was suffering from a guilty conscious over snooping through my stuff.

Steph's initial reaction to me telling her about my status as a federal agent went better than I thought it would. When we were in Florida, she had asked me if I had any other secrets to share with her and I chose not to divulge my true profession to her at that time. After our lunch meeting with Joe Morelli, I knew I had better come clean totally or I'd risk losing my Babe's trust when she did eventually discover the truth. Actually, it was best that she now knew what she had gotten herself into, anyway.

It also was good to be able to explain to Steph more about my life with the Army Rangers. Of course, I'd never be able to tell her about my classified missions, but there were many stories and adventures I could share with her. Seeing her eyes light up when she gazed at the photos of me and the other guys participating in a variety of airborne operations strengthened an idea that had been stuck in my mind for a while. Besides, I knew I needed to distract my Babe from her anger and disappointment at having been lied to for such a long time.

"I saw that you really liked the photos with all the parachutes," I asked after I released Steph from another long kiss.

She swayed a little on her feet and then replied, "Oh, yes. Those are my favorites. I mean, I knew that all of you - Tank, Lester, Bobby, Silvio and the rest - were Army Rangers, but I don't remember you telling me that you guys used to jump out of airplanes all the time."

"Some of us still do," I said. Then I added, "Mostly for fun now, though."

Steph chewed on her lower lip while she processed this new bit of information. Then she asked, "Does that mean … you really _**can**_ fly?"

I laughed aloud. "In a manner of speaking, yes. Would you like to learn?"

My Babe's mouth dropped open and I could tell that she was giving this some serious thought. Airplanes and helicopters weren't her favorite modes of travel, but she knew that she'd have to get on them again in order to go up in the air. I'm sure that terrified her, but her desire to "fly" with a parachute seemed to be stronger than her fear of flying in an aircraft. It was no surprise when she closed her mouth and nodded her pretty little head.

"Yes," she said. "I've always wanted to fly. I even broke my arm trying to fly off the roof of my parents' garage."

"I know," I said and then I grinned at her.

"When can I start?" she asked, suddenly excited about this new adventure.

I placed my scrapbook back in the bottom drawer of the desk and said, "I need to take a shower. I'll tell you all about it later – unless, of course, you'd like to join me now."

"But I already took a shower," she protested.

"And?" I replied.

Luckily for me, my Babe was still addicted to my Bulgari shower gel.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

It was really going to happen – I, Stephanie Plum, was going to learn how to fly! While we were in the shower, Ranger told me all about a nearby free-fall parachuting club and school. He reminded me that Jenna Cafferty, the unfortunate daughter of John Cantrell, was now married to a man who was an aircraft pilot and parachuting instructor. Then Ranger told me that he already knew the man who ran the free-fall school and said that he would contact him soon to set up a meeting. I would have to take some indoor classes, but when the weather got warm again, I'd probably be able to "put my knees in the breeze" as Ranger said.

Of course, I became very excited about the prospect of taking free-fall parachuting lessons. In fact, I was so excited that I failed to pay attention to Ranger's level of excitement, and before I knew it, he had lifted me up onto his hips and plunged inside of me while we stood under the shower spray. All I could do was wrap my arms around his neck and hang on. Only the fact that making love with Ranger felt so good kept me from being angry at him.

"Carlos, you tricked me!" I accused afterward. "You knew I wouldn't be able to resist your shower gel and you ... you took advantage of the situation!"

He merely smiled at me as he rubbed the deliciously fragrant lather all over my totally relaxed body and said, "I'm just trying to have some good, clean fun here, Babe."

I continued my lame rant. "But it's not yet time for all of that! There's still another day on my cycle. Aren't you grossed out?"

"Far from it," he said while he slid his soapy hands down my legs to wash them. I think I might have moaned and he looked up at me as though he was a very contented cat. "Stephanie, _**you**_ might not have thought the time was right, but your body certainly did. It seems to me that you really enjoyed it."

"Yes, but …," and then I stopped trying to make excuses. Ranger was right. Our loving-making in the shower had felt fabulous. There hadn't been any pain or cramping, as I had always feared. And besides, there were soap suds everywhere, so I actually felt much cleaner and fresher than I would have if we'd had sex in the bed. This was a new and different experience for me, but it was good – very, very good.

Ranger stood up and plucked the shower head out of its bracket so that he could rinse the suds off of my body. When he was done, he quickly rinsed himself and then turned off the water. Then he grabbed our towels and began drying both of our bodies. It really felt nice to be pampered in such a way. I felt so relaxed that part of me wanted to slide back into bed and sleep for a few more hours.

Reading my mind, Ranger pulled me into the dressing room and said, "You _**could**_ go back to bed, of course." Then he grinned wickedly at me and added, "But then you wouldn't have as much time to play with your new car."

"My new-" I gasped and then exclaimed, "Carlos, you got me a car!"

Ranger nodded and I did my best to crush his ribcage in my version of a bear hug. When we finally released each other from the kissing session that followed my bear hug, he reached over and picked up his cell phone off of the dresser and opened it for me. There, on the tiny screen, were several photos of my new car. It was a silver Porsche Cayenne!

Apparently, Ramon had picked up the Cayenne from Ranger's Uncle Diego's car dealership in New York City the previous day. He had sent photos of the car to Ranger, driven it back to Trenton and parked it next to the other vehicles down in the garage. I had been too tired to notice the new arrival when Ranger and I returned from Grandma Rosa's party.

I grinned up at Ranger and said, "This is mine? Really mine – all legal and everything?"

He nodded again and said, "All legal and everything. There's only one condition - Uncle Diego wants to meet you as soon as he returns from Germany."

"Germany?" I asked, suddenly confused.

"Porsche … BMW … Mercedes Benz …" Ranger ticked off the names until it finally dawned on me.

"Ah, yes, all German imports," I said. "But why does he want to meet me so badly?"

"Babe," Ranger shook his head. "Do you have any idea how many of Uncle Diego's surplus cars you've destroyed? You're practically a legend to him, as well as all the guys who work for him. And by now, I'm sure he's heard a lot more about you from everyone who met you down in Florida, as well as everyone who was at Grandma Rosa's party last night."

"Wait; isn't he a Súarez?" I asked.

Ranger shrugged. "Yes, but you know how families are. Even though Uncle Diego was my father's boss for many years, they became close friends after my parents got married. In fact, they're still good buddies to this day. He gets invited to all kinds of Mañoso family gatherings."

"Wow," I exclaimed. "You know, the Plums and the Mazurs never really hung out together. There weren't that many Mazurs in the first place and my mom is an only child. Besides, my Italian-American aunts didn't care all that much for their brother's Hungarian-American wife. I don't know why, but nobody ever talks about it. That's just the way things are in my family and I suppose they'll never change." Suddenly, I felt kind of sad about that.

"Well, Uncle Diego is really the only one from my mother's family who ever tried to mingle with the Mañosos," Ranger continued. "Remember, I told you that Abuela Blanca was a bit of a social snob. Even though everyone was from Cuba, my father's family wasn't the 'right' kind of Cuban."

Now I was confused and asked, "Your Cuban mother's family didn't accept your Cuban father just because he worked as an auto mechanic?"

"Oh, it's much deeper than that, Babe." Ranger laughed bitterly and explained, "Remember how I told you that Abuela Blanca's was the daughter of a native Cuban woman and a white American executive who managed agricultural properties near Havana for an international fruit packing company? Well, Abuela Blanca, for all her Cuban mother's genes, was a fair-haired, blue-eyed woman. That's where my mother and I, as well as many of my cousins, like Val and Sara, get our Anglo features."

"Oh," I said, trying to sort it all out inside my head. "What about your grandfather, Papí Súarez?"

Ranger sighed. "Papí's mother's family traces its origins all the way back to Spain, so he came from very old money - even though very little of it passed down to him. Still, it was enough to help him establish his first car dealership in Miami when he came to America. And he was able to build up his little empire from there."

"And the Mañosos?" I asked.

"Afro-Cuban all the way," he said, "They were the descendants of freed slaves and the native peoples who populated the southeastern tip of the island. That's where we get the deeper skin tones in my family. The Mañosos also were skilled craftsmen, as you've seen with the furniture in both mine and my parents' dining rooms. They definitely were _**not**_ part of Miami's high society of Cuban exiles, like my mother's family."

I nodded and said, "Ah, I see."

Ranger raised an eyebrow and asked, "You think so? What if we were to have a child who looks more like my Grandpa Nestor, with his dark skin and tightly curling hair, than my Papí Suarez, with his lightly tanned skin and wavy hair? How do you think your family will react, Steph?"

I stared at Ranger in stunned silence for a moment. Had Batman just mentioned the possibility of us having a child together? I guess I was sort of shocked – never mind the idea that such a child might turn out to be a bit on the darker side of the racial spectrum. Not that it would matter to me. Honestly, I was afraid that _**any**_ child of mine would be at risk of becoming seriously messed up just because of me and my wacky gene pool. And if I had _**Ranger's**_ child, well, the poor kid's diet probably would consist only of salads and cakes.

I reached up and gently touched Ranger's scruffy, unshaven face and said, "I thought …you weren't sure … about having kids."

"I'm not," he admitted. "I only said that to make a point. My background is quite the mix, Steph. There's a lot we'd have to think about before we even allow ourselves to consider the possibility of having a child together."

"Oh," I said again. Then, Queen of Denial that I am, I asked, "When can we go down and see my new car?"

"Babe, you never disappoint," was all Ranger said in reply.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

Watching Stephanie crawl all over her new car was a true delight. It was a thousand times better than watching my nieces and nephews open their Christmas presents. My Babe's beautiful blue eyes were bright with excitement as she explored the smooth leather interior of the silver Porsche Cayenne. I'd never seen Steph so enthralled with any of the cars I'd given her before, but I supposed that the idea of this car truly belonging to her was what piqued her interest.

"You want to take a test drive?" I finally asked and her ear-to-ear grin was all I needed to see to know that we'd be out on the road for a while.

After we had gone around the block a few times, I suggested that we take a short trip out to the beach.

"But it's raining!" Steph protested.

"I know a great seafood place out there," I explained. "The dishes won't be as good as what Túlio made for us down in Miami, but I think you'll like the selections."

After I promised my Babe to wash her new car for her, she agreed to let me get behind the wheel and we drove out to the Jersey shore. As I had predicted, Steph truly enjoyed her lunch of grilled Atlantic salmon and crispy home fries. She especially liked the huge ice cream sundae I ordered for her dessert. I figured that I'd let my Babe have her fun now, before I really put her to work. Once I got Steph onto the treadmill and weight machines again, I knew that she would complain fiercely, but I'd be able to remind her that my current kindness toward her should have earned some cooperation from her.

The rain stopped long enough for us to take a short stroll on the wet beach. Steph found some pieces of sea glass and placed them in her pocket. When I asked her what she planned on doing with them, she told me that she hoped to take them back to Susan Cafferty's jewelry shop in Point Pleasant someday. Perhaps the woman could make something nice out of the glass, especially since that was one of her specialties.

"Babe, you do know that it's highly likely Susan Cafferty will still be mad at you, right?" I reminded her.

She shrugged and admitted, "It's a possibility. But she's a businesswoman. The winter months can be difficult for people like her who sell most of their goods during the summer beach season. Now that I've got lots of money, I'll be a potential customer, regardless of the season."

I couldn't argue with my Babe's logic, so I helped her search for more pieces of sea glass. When the clouds grew heavy again, we headed back to the car. The skies opened up just as we were buckling our seatbelts and we drove home in the pouring rain. It was a good thing that I was driving, though, because Steph fell asleep before we had gone ten miles down the road.

All was quiet at RangeMan when we arrived. Thankfully, Ella had prepared a savory beef stew for our evening meal and it was bubbling in the crock pot when we entered the apartment. My Babe's stomach growled as soon as the delicious aroma greeted us. There was a tossed salad in the fridge, as well as freshly-baked bread in a basket on the kitchen counter. We definitely ate well again.

Stephanie fell asleep on the couch while we were watching the headline news channel. I carried her into the bedroom and undressed her. It was tempting to leave her naked and see what would happen later, but I resisted my libido. It was one thing to have soapy sex in the shower, but I knew my Babe would still be a little shy about making love in the bed until after her period was totally finished. Once again I dressed her in one of my t-shirts and curled my body around hers as I fell into a deep and untroubled sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, it was to the fantastic sight of Stephanie's gorgeous blue eyes gazing at my face.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi, yourself," I smiled and pulled her closer to kiss the top of her forehead.

"You slept in," she said, the surprise was obvious in her tone of voice.

"Mmm hmm," I nodded.

She cuddled into me and said "I thought for sure that you wouldn't be here when I woke up. I thought you might have gone running or something."

"Not today," I said.

"What's so special about today?" she asked.

"Today is Sunday," I replied. "A day of rest and-"

"Donuts!" she interrupted.

"Those things will kill you, Babe," I said, but immediately regretted it when Steph's expression changed from excitement to disappointment in the blink of an eye.

"But I _**like**_ donuts, even though you say they're bad for me," Steph said. "And … contrary to popular belief, the sugar hasn't been a problem, now has it?"

I had to smile at that. Then I said, "Well, I actually was thinking that today should be a 'let Stephanie choose what we'll do' day. If you really want to get donuts, we'll go out and get donuts."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," I replied. I just wanted my Babe to make all the choices today – within reason, of course.

She kissed my bare chest and asked, "I appreciate the thought, but could we reschedule this day for sometime later in the week – when I … when I'm through with … you know?"

"Steph, I have four older sisters," I said, trying hard to keep the exasperation out of my voice. "You can call it your period. It's part of life and I'm fine with that. And you didn't seem to have any objections in the shower yesterday."

"That was different," she protested and her face turned a pretty shade of embarrassed pink. "I'd never done that before. Can't we just wait another day or so?"

I clamped down on my desires and pretended to consider Steph's request to postpone my idea for the day's activities. After a long moment I shook my head and sighed dramatically, "It's too late for that, Babe. We've already slept in. Now we've got to go through with it."

"Go through with it?" Stephanie gasped indignantly and sat up in the bed. "What's _**that**_ supposed to mean? And who put _**you**_ in charge of deciding which day is which, anyway?"

Dios! I knew I shouldn't tease my Babe like this, but I just couldn't help it. Steph really was cute when her temper was on the rise. Her blue eyes flashed with passionate anger and she looked determined to erupt like a volcano. Of course, her passions had served me well on many occasions, but at that particular moment, I needed to cool her off again before things got out of hand.

"Babe, I'm just having a little fun with you," I soothed. "I just want you to know that I'm fine with doing whatever it is that you feel like doing today, especially since Dr. O'Neill will be here tomorrow and I know that most of my time will belong to him. Today is your day; after that, though, we may have to negotiate."

Steph tried to glare at me, but I had started rubbing her back and the massage was getting to her. She sighed and said, "Mmm, that feels so good. Okaaay, it's _**my**_ day, right? So ... can we go to the mall this afternoon?"

I felt almost like I'd been sucker-punched. "The mall? Aw, Babe, come on-"

"You _**said**_ it was my choice today," she smiled. "Did you really mean it or were you just-?"

"Fine," I said. No point in arguing or going back on my word.

And that's how I ended up at the Quaker Bridge Mall on a Sunday afternoon, following my Babe as she wandered in and out of practically every clothing store known to man. I'd taken her out for donuts and coffee earlier in the day, mostly to give myself time to wrap my head around the fact that I had agreed to go to the mall with her. Next time, I promised myself, I would word my statements more carefully.

Actually, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. As a condition of Steph being allowed to but whatever she wanted, she had to model her prospective purchases. None of the store clerks objected when I accompanied my Babe into the dressing room stalls. They just stared at us whenever we emerged and gladly accepted my credit card afterward.

The only place Stephanie wouldn't allow me to follow her was the 'Victoria's Secret' store. I reminded her that she'd have to model everything she bought when we got back home and she merely gave me a little finger wave as she disappeared behind the dressing room curtain. Unfortunately, we weren't able to find a replacement set of pink pajamas for the ones I had ruined in Miami, but I told Steph that Ella had already ordered them from the store's website. I was quite disappointed when my Babe wouldn't allow me to peek in the bag to see what she had purchased there, so I let my imagination run wild as we strolled back to the car.

Steph noticed the expression on my face and said, "Down boy! I'm not letting you see _**anything**_ in this bag until I'm good and ready – and I won't be ready tonight, that's for sure." She even held on to that bag while I carried the rest of her full shopping bags.

"You're killing me, Babe," I practically growled as I held the passenger door open for her.

She smiled slyly at me as she slid her seatbelt across her body and clicked it secure. Then she purred, "I promise you, Carlos, it'll be worth the wait."

**

* * *

**

A/N: Since my husband and I are former paratroopers, I thought it might be interesting to let you know – through Ranger telling Steph about his Army experiences – more about the world of us crazy folks who liked to jump out of "perfectly good aircraft." We still have many SF friends and one of my college classmates is a former commander of the

**75th Ranger Regiment, the real unit to which our Ranger, Carlos, would have been assigned when he was in the Army. I've created a new photo account to "illustrate" my story. It's over at "www (dot) flickr (dot) com/photos/writes4fun/ and you can get there from my profile page. As a general disclaimer, I don't own most of those photos, but the images didn't have the copyright info attached to them either. The Ranger class graduation photo actually is my hubby's, though. Anyway, please check them out and let me know if you like them. Thanks! :)**


	31. Chapter 31

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and everything in her world. I just like to play around with her characters. Anyone you don't recognize here is probably someone I created to enhance my version of the Plum-verse.**

**A/N: The way JE writes her, Stephanie Plum tends to linger in the land of denial for long periods of time (just the same way I tend to linger in the land of real life and can't seem to update my writing as regularly as I'd like to). My version of Steph is a tiny bit more connected to her real life. And now that our heroes are married, they both must tackle their current reality by dealing with consequences of Ranger's traumatic past. Warning: There are descriptions of torture in this chapter, but nothing too graphic because I'm trying to maintain a 'T' rating for this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Ranger smiled. "You ever try to quit smoking?"_

_I shook my head._

"_Then you wouldn't understand."_

"_Did you used to smoke?"_

"_I used to everything."_

_Hot Six_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 31: Perfect Patient**

**Ranger's POV**

Monday dawned crisp and clear. Visits from Dr. O'Neill could be quite unnerving, so I slept poorly and woke up long before my alarm went off. As usual, my Babe only stirred a little when I kissed her before I headed down to the gym. Amazingly, we had been married for almost a week already. It made me feel good to know that Stephanie felt so safe and secure in our home. Of course, we did live at the top of what could be considered a formidable fortress. The apartment was fine for now, but I decided that we would need to start shopping for a place that truly was ours together sooner rather than later.

Once I got downstairs, I checked the status boards in the control room and then continued on to the basement gym. Several of my men had completed their morning workouts already, but only Tank and Bobby opted to run outside with me. None of us were in a talkative mood and we stayed in our own separate "zones" for five miles before anyone spoke.

"What time will the Doc be here to see you?" Bobby asked me, keeping his pace steady with mine.

Startled out of my thoughts, I replied, "0900 hours."

"Yeah. Roy's already headed to the airport to get him," Tank added and he pulled up along my other side, effectively blocking the sun's weak rays with his bulk. "And after the Doc's finished with Ranger, he's gonna talk to me."

After we had run another hundred yards or so, Bobby asked, "Do you think he'll have time to see me when he's done with the two of you?"

"Probably," I said, glancing back and forth between Tank and Bobby. "But I thought he examined you and the other men while I was in Miami. Everything looked good then. You've all got 'swimmers' now, right?"

Bobby shrugged and said, "Yeah, well, now that Viv and I are engaged, I think I need to ask him some more specific questions. You know, about having kids and stuff."

I raised my eyebrow at Bobby, but said nothing.

He continued, though a little nervously. "Well, everything was all _**theoretical**_ before this past weekend. That whole marriage and kids thing was like a far-off possibility, you know. But now it's gonna be _**real**_ and I want to be prepared. I'm a medic, not an OB/GYN. I figured you'd be asking Doc O'Neill these same kinds of questions, Ranger, especially since it's already real for you."

"What?" I asked, somewhat stunned by Bobby's ramblings.

"Well … you and Stephanie got hitched so quickly, we figured there probably was a good reason-" and his sentence finally trailed off when he noticed the menacing glare I was giving him.

"My reasons for marrying Stephanie do _**not**_ include pregnancy," I growled.

"Okay, okay," Bobby said and raised the palms of his hands in a gesture of contrite surrender. "Sorry, boss. Some of us just assumed-"

My voice sounded tight when I interrupted him. "I'll make sure Dr. O'Neill knows that you – and maybe some of the others – will want a few moments of his time after he's done with me." I glanced darkly at Tank, who only shrugged, and then we finished the last lengths of our eight-mile run in silence. When we got back to the building, I took the stairs directly back up to the seventh floor.

Stephanie was still asleep when I quietly slipped into the bedroom and then into the shower. Now that her period was over, all I really wanted to do was to slide under the sheets next to my Babe and bring her to back into the land of the living in the most sensuous way possible. However, I knew that maintaining control over my feelings and desires was far more important today than indulging my passions. It was difficult to shake off the words that Bobby had said, but turning the water from hot to cold helped me to clear my head.

After I dressed in my usual work clothes, I drank a liter of ice cold water and then made a fresh pot of coffee for Stephanie. Other than water, I couldn't have anything to eat or drink until Dr. O'Neill finished taking samples of all my body fluids. I wanted to speak to my Babe before I headed down to my office, so I fixed a mug of coffee for her and took it into the bedroom.

Once Steph was awake, I would encourage her to call Ella when she was ready to eat breakfast. The thought of my Babe making a peanut-butter-and-whatever sandwich every morning made me cringe, but I knew better than to make an issue out of it the way that Morelli had. Steph was a grown-up and she was free to make her own food choices – even the bad ones – at least for the time being.

It took only a few minutes of fanning the aroma of the hot coffee toward the bed before Stephanie began to stir. Although I had watched her waking from her sleep a thousand times, the sight of my Babe opening her beautiful blue eyes and smiling at me always took my breath away. It was hard to believe that she was still in my bed and that she would belong only to me forever.

Stephanie rolled over to face me and then she sat up to receive the mug of coffee. I sat down on the edge of the bed and she began to drink the warm, sweet brew. After a few sips, she set the mug down on the night stand and said, "Mmm. That's just what I needed. Thank you, Carlos. What time is it anyway?"

"It's almost time for my appointment with Dr. O'Neill," I replied. "I just wanted to see you awake before I went back downstairs to my office."

"Oh, then I guess I'd better get up and put on some clothes, " Steph said and she quickly picked up the mug and began to gulp down the rest of her coffee.

"No need to rush," I said. "Take your time, Babe."

She stared at me for a moment over the rim of the mug and then she placed it down again.

"You're not in a hurry?" she asked.

I shook my head and replied, "Not really."

Then Steph swung her legs over the side of the bed and slid over next to me. She was wearing one of my T-shirts, but it was scrunched up around her hips, leaving her smooth legs bare. I didn't break eye contact with her when she placed her hand lightly on my upper thigh and my heartbeat quickened when she licked her lips and smiled up at me. Dios! My Babe had no idea how much her little actions turned me on.

"Carlos," Steph whispered my name huskily. "Let me make love to you."

Then again, maybe she _**did**_ know how much she affected me. I closed my eyes. Although I truly wasn't in a hurry to go downstairs, this certainly wasn't the time for us to be fooling around. As much as it pained me to refuse Steph's offer, I forced myself to say, "No."

"Please, Carlos," she softly pleaded. "You've been so good to me - especially these past few days - and I just want to do something to make you feel good, too."

Desire, doubt, fear and longing all raged a fierce battle inside my mind and body. I sat perfectly motionless for a few heartbeats until I was able to get myself back under complete control. I knew she meant well, but my Babe still didn't understand that there was no way I'd place her into the same kind of danger as before. Stephanie Plum had dealt with enough dangerously crazy men in her lifetime and I certainly didn't want to cause her to fear _**me**_. Not now; not ever.

Struggling to keep my voice steady, I said, "Babe, believe me, I'd _**love**_ to let you have your way with me right now, but we agreed not to do anything like this until _**after**_ my appointment with Dr. O'Neill. We need to stick to the plan." Then I took her hand off of my thigh, threaded my fingers through hers and lifted her as I stood up.

"But what possible difference could a few minutes make?" she asked.

Now that we were standing toe to toe, facing each other, I could feel the warmth of her body and I wanted nothing more than to give in to my sexy Babe's desires. Unfortunately, I had to be strong, instead. After gently pulling away from her I explained, "Babe, this exam is likely to take a while and then we'll see what the doctor has to say. I'm not sure what his advice will be."

"Okay, but once we tell him about … the incident-" Steph began, but I cut her off.

"Stephanie," I said firmly, "_**We**_ are not seeing the doctor right now. I'm going down to see him first - _**alone**_. He's going to give me a thorough physical examination, complete with tests of my blood and … other bodily fluids. Like I said, it will take a while. I want you to stay here."

"But _**I**_ wanted to meet Dr. O'Neill, too!" Steph whined.

"You _**will**_ meet him, Babe," I assured her with a hug. "Just … not while he's giving me a physical. I promise I'll call for you to come down as soon as I'm dressed again."

Steph pouted prettily at me and said, "But that means I'll miss the best part. I _**really**_ wanted to see you wearing one of those gowns - you know, the kind that doesn't cover your backside."

"Babe." All I could do was shake my head. I didn't think this was the time to tell her that we never used hospital gowns during the physical exams which took place in my office.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait?" Steph asked and her voice still was a little whiny. "You know I'm not good at waiting."

I released her from my embrace, kissed the tip of her cute little nose and said, "Take a shower, get dressed, eat some breakfast. You'll figure it out."

"I think I'm out of peanut butter," she replied.

I sighed. "Babe, you know that Ella's on stand-by to make whatever you'd like for breakfast. All you have to do is call her."

"I know, it's just that-" she paused and chewed on her lower lip before continuing. "I don't want Ella to think I'm such a loser. She probably thinks I don't even know how to cook."

"Do you?" I asked and immediately regretted my smart-ass remark.

She glared at me and said defensively, "Hey! I'm half-Italian _**and**_ I'm from the Burg. Of course I know how to cook! Well, some things anyway. You'll see! I'll go shopping this morning – all by myself - and get the ingredients to cook a real Italian meal for us tonight! And you'd better show up with a good appetite, mister!"

Mister? Uh-oh. I had mistakenly awakened the stubborn beast that lived within my sweet Babe. Who knew what kind of disaster might await me this evening? I said nothing right away, but I made a mental note to have Ella be prepared to come to the rescue, if necessary. Truthfully, though, I could eat just about anything. In fact, when I was a soldier, I would – and did – eat _**everything**_, so I was fairly confident that I could survive whatever Stephanie put on my plate.

I stifled a sigh and said, "If you cook it, Babe, I promise I'll eat it. I just have one small request."

"What is it?" she asked, still sounding a little annoyed.

"Salad. You know I like salad," I replied with a smile. "And, from what I understand, _**insalata**_ is usually part of an Italian meal."

"Fine," she said and lifted her chin a fraction of an inch. "I'll make sure there's a salad tonight. And it'll be a good _**Italian**_ one, too!"

"Looking forward to it, Babe," I said. "I gotta go now. I'll call you." And I pulled her to me for a long, reassuring kiss. Then I quickly slipped out of the apartment before this cooking thing turned into more of an issue than it already was.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

I held myself together until the elevator door closed and started to descend. Then I freaked out - completely. Italian food? What the hell had I been thinking? An entire Italian-style meal, complete with _**insalata**_ and everything? Insalata my ass! I had to be out of my friggin' mind. Fortunately, I had learned a thing or two about internet searches during my time as a RangeMan employee.

I stormed into the apartment's office, logged on to the laptop computer there, searched for recipes for "authentic" Italian cuisine and printed out the ones that looked the most promising. Forgetting all about breakfast, I quickly dressed in a black sweater top and black stretchy pants. I figured I should look somewhat like a member of the RangeMan organization when Ranger called me in to his office to meet the doctor. Then I had to search for my purse so that I could run out to the store and buy all the things I'd need to make this special dinner.

"Good morning, Rex!" I called out as I ran past the kitchen. "I'm sure that Ella will be here shortly to take care of you. Don't tell her that I went shopping, okay?" I didn't wait for a reply.

Twenty-five minutes later, I was standing at the display case of Giovichinni's Deli in the Burg, trying to decide which items would appeal the most to Ranger's finicky palate. I was hoping against all hope that I could get in and get out before anyone who knew me saw me. The last thing I needed was for some big-mouthed gossip to tell my mother that I was in the neighborhood buying food for an Italian meal. Unfortunately for me, the woman behind the deli counter was Tina Ferlazzo, whose eighty-five-year-old grandmother still lived around the corner from my parents. As soon as she noticed me, I knew I was screwed.

"Stephanie Plum, how nice to see you!" Tina exclaimed. "I heard you got married to that hot bounty hunter of yours. What's his name? Oh yeah, _**Ranger**_. It's all over the neighborhood. Congratulations!"

"Thanks," I said with my best fake smile and then I returned my attention to the wide variety of meats on display behind the glass.

"What can I get for you today?" Tina asked.

I hesitated. Come on, Stephanie, I silently told myself, you can do this! After all, I'd seen my mother order meat here a thousand times. And she was Hungarian, for crying out loud! The thought occurred to me that when my mother was a newlywed, she'd had to learn how to fix Italian food for my father. Now it was my turn to learn. Although, technically, I supposed I should be learning how to cook _**Cuban**_ food for _**my**_ new husband. Oh well. I'd have to do that some other day.

I had already decided to pick up the bread and dessert, wine, onions, peppers, noodles and other ingredients at different stores, but I trusted the quality of the meats here at Giovichinni's. In fact, my mother had sent me to pick up her orders from this very deli countless times. Taking a deep breath to bolster my courage, I began to point out my selections.

"Let's see," I said to Tina. "I need some antipasti, a pound of that sausage in the corner of the display case over there, and a couple of cans of those special imported plum tomatoes that my mother likes."

Tina rang up the items and then placed them all into a paper grocery bag. Then she asked, "Why did your mother change her menu for tonight? I thought she was happy with the rump roast she bought yesterday afternoon. It was on sale and everything!"

Unh! I gave myself a mental head slap! There were no secrets in the Burg. Everybody always knew what everybody else was cooking for dinner on any given night. When I was a kid, if I didn't like the menu at our house, I would conveniently arrange to be at someone else's house for dinner, especially if my mother was cooking stuffed cabbage. I made sure to "get stuck" over at my best friend Mary Lou's house on several occasions.

"Uh … no, this isn't for my mother." I told Tina. "It's for me and my … my husband," I said, almost tripping over the unfamiliar phrase. "I … I'm making a special dinner tonight and I wanted it to be all Italian."

"I thought your husband was Black," Tina said, and then quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with that. It's just that, well, this would make more sense if you were making dinner for Joe-" And she let her awkward sentence trail off.

"Actually, my husband is Cuban-American and he likes Italian food," I said with a fake lightness in my tone of voice as I pulled my wallet out of my purse. "How much do I owe you?"

Tina told me and I counted out the exact amount. After she finished the transaction, she leaned over the cash register, grinned slyly at me and said, "So … I guess this means that Joe Morelli really _**is**_ back on the market now, right?"

"Uh … right," I said, beginning to feel more than a little uncomfortable. I had to endure similarly awkward situations at both the bakery and the corner grocery store before I realized that I shouldn't have come back to the Burg to shop for food. Next time, I decided, I'd go to Hamilton Township for groceries – or better yet, maybe I would let Ella do the shopping after all.

Before I left the Burg, I decided to stop by my parents' house, but no one was at home. I called and left a message. I knew that Mary Lou had a bunch of sick kids at her house, so I called and left her a message, too. Then I stopped by the bonds office, but there was one of those clock signs in the window saying that they'd be back in thirty minutes. Connie probably was running errands while Vinnie was at the courthouse, writing bail bonds for some low-life criminals. And there was no telling what Lula was doing. I called each of them and left a short message.

All the way back to the Haywood building, I ate donuts and scolded myself for being such a creature of habit. Now the whole Burg would know that I, Stephanie Plum, had been traipsing around the old neighborhood to buy stuff to make a "special" Italian meal for my "Black" husband. My mother would be disappointed that I hadn't called for her input or advice. Joe probably would be hurt because I hadn't ever attempted to cook any kind of meal - special or not - for him. What a mess! Oh, well, they'd just have to get over it - and so would I.

I parked my new Cayenne in the garage and waved at the surveillance cameras as I hauled my groceries up to the apartment. I wondered who was watching the monitors and if they'd tell Ranger about my little excursion. When I entered the apartment, I discovered that Ella had been there already. The bed had fresh sheets on it and there were fresh towels in the bathroom. Even Rex had fresh bedding, as well as fresh food and water.

After I put away the groceries, I made a peanut butter and banana sandwich on whole-wheat bread for the "healthy" part of my late breakfast and washed it down with a tall glass of milk. Then I began to get anxious because I figured that Ranger should have called me down to his office already. Perhaps the doctor had given him some bad news and he didn't know how to tell me about it. I wondered if something had gone terribly wrong and no one knew that Ranger was supposed to have called me. Not wanting to wait any longer, I decided to head downstairs and see if everything was okay.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Dr. O'Neill's POV**

I have known Major Carlos Mañoso since he was a newly-promoted captain in the Army Special Forces. Back then, I was a "gung-ho" military physician who had made a career of studying the effects of chemical agents on soldiers who had survived toxic conditions on the battlefield. I had just been assigned to the medical team at the Special Operations Command (SOCOM) Headquarters at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida when then-Captain Mañoso and his Ranger unit returned from a terrible mission down in Colombia. We've kept in contact through the years, even after he left active duty. Even after he became a _**different**_ kind of government asset.

My work at SOCOM includes the follow-up on this particular case, despite the fact that most of the men who were involved in that mission are no longer soldiers. It's been a fascinating case and I've learned so much from the man I consider to be the perfect patient. Carlos Mañoso has changed practically everything about his lifestyle – he quit smoking, quit eating junk food and drinking to excess – everything I asked him to do and now he's one of the healthiest men I know. Lately, there have been several interesting developments and I think I'm finally on the verge of solving the mystery of why all the men except for him have recovered the ability to father children.

I had completed my examination and I'd already determined the results of the tests, so I took a deep breath and said, "I have good news and bad news, Carlos. Which do you want first?"

"Bad news first, sir," he replied. Not surprisingly, this was what he normally preferred.

"Your sperm count is still negligible," I said and I watched him carefully to assess his reaction. As usual, his facial expression gave no indication of his real emotions, so I continued to speak. "You've told me that you and your new wife aren't sure that you want to have children – at least, not at this point in your lives. And I realize that you have a daughter by your first marriage, but I've known you for a long time, Carlos. Now that you're married again, I have a feeling that you might want to become a father again someday."

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he only asked, "And the good news, sir?"

"I can help you, but I'm going to need fluid samples from you before I return to Tampa." Then I grinned at him and asked, "Do you think you can get your wife to help you fill a few more vials for me?"

"Yes, sir," Carlos replied and his lips twitched into the barest of smiles. It wasn't much of a response, but I was glad to have lightened his mood, if only for a moment.

"Actually, the best news is that all of the men on your former team – the ones who also went to Colombia on that mission – have normal, healthy sperm counts now," I told him enthusiastically. "You already know about the new baby that Silvio's wife is getting ready to deliver, but I predict that your company will experience its own little baby boom within the next two or three years. Does RangeMan offer family health coverage?"

"We will soon, sir," Carlos nodded.

"Good! As of right now, if any of your former soldiers want to get married and have kids, their bodies should cooperate," I said. "I'd advise you to issue proper warnings and guidance, but you and your men here aren't required to follow Army regulations anymore, so there's not as much that you can do to influence their personal lives."

Carlos nodded again and said, "Hooah, sir." I took this to mean that he wasn't even going to try to exert any influence in such a manner.

"There's something else I'd like to ask you, though," I began carefully, knowing that I was venturing into risky territory now. "It's about your interactions with Dr. Lagos while he held you in captivity. You said that you recently had a negative reaction to a flashback while you were with your wife. What happened?"

While Carlos recounted the events of a few days prior to my visit, a thought occurred to me and when he finished speaking, I asked, "Tell me again; how did Dr. Lagos obtain your specific DNA?"

"Sir?" he replied, obviously confused.

I answered carefully, "I've been studying the specific chemical make-up of the sterilization agent Dr. Lagos developed in his Colombian laboratory for several years now. Somehow, he linked the poison to the body fluids of you and all your former soldiers. I was able to isolate the specific foreign enzymes in everyone's blood and semen in order to develop the main antidote, but it has always bothered me that _**your**_ sperm count is the only one that hasn't really responded to the treatments the same way that everyone else's has in the past few months."

"I'm not sure I understand where you're going with this, sir," Carlos admitted.

"Carlos, this may be difficult for you to hear," I said. "But I truly think the reason your sperm count is the most severely affected is tied directly to the reason you suffered a flashback when your wife touched you. I've recently re-read your file and you had very little to say about the methods of torture that Dr. Lagos used on you. When your men rescued you, you were naked and chained to a wall. Your report doesn't specifically say, but we both know that Eduardo Lagos sexually assaulted you and then collected your semen to use in his experiments, didn't he?"

Carlos sat very still and said, "He … he didn't exactly rape me, sir, if that's what you're asking. My report says-"

"I know what your report says, but I also know what I've seen under the microscope," I interrupted him. "Eduardo Lagos – El Lagarto - may have been criminally insane, but he also was a brilliant genetic scientist. Whatever else he might have done, he created a sterilization agent so powerful, that it reacted with every living organism around him, including you and your men. We've been able to decode and neutralize everything in that agent _**except**_ for the part that pertains specifically to _**you**_. He must have obtained several samples of your semen in order to accomplish his masterpiece of medical science, no matter how unethical it was. Now, what more can you tell me about your time in that madman's laboratory?"

The raw pain on Carlos Mañoso's face was heartbreaking, but I had to be tough with him now or else the truth – and its ability to set him free - would stay locked up forever. No man ever wanted to admit to another man that he'd been sexually assaulted. My psychiatric training had taught me how to understand and deal with men who had been abused in such ways while in captivity. I knew that Carlos would need some professional counseling for both him and his wife. Right now, though, I needed to know the exact details of the abuse he suffered so that I could help him to work through his PTSD, as well as figure out the antidote to cure his infertility once and for all.

Carlos stared out beyond his office window and I could tell that his mind was thousands of miles away. After several minutes of stony silence, he began to speak in a low, halting manner. "As I said in my report, Lagos wanted information about our government's efforts to infiltrate and neutralize his family's drug cartel. I wouldn't give up anything to him. At first he was very, very angry and ordered his henchmen to beat me to within an inch of my life. After the first day … they pulled out a few of my toenails, but I still wouldn't talk. I don't know what happened to change his mind, but late on the second day … Lagos started … touching … me. I didn't allow my body to … respond."

"But that didn't work, did it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"It worked for a while," he replied flatly. "Until Lagos drugged me. When I woke up, he was …using his mouth … on me. I don't know for sure, but I think it happened … more than once. He was furious that I still wouldn't talk, that I wouldn't even scream for him. Then Lagos threatened to … use me the same way he used his … boys, but my men rescued me before … he could … accomplish his goal."

"That must have been a horrifying experience for you, Carlos," I said, still watching him closely. "I wish you had put that into your official report."

He slowly shook his head and said, "I … couldn't."

"Carlos, you don't have to be ashamed of anything," I said. "You were chained to a wall and drugged. You were forced against your will."

He shook his head again and continued, "At one point, Lagos ordered one of his henchmen to pour some water down my throat because he said I looked thirsty. It felt like I was drowning in the stuff, but I wasn't strong enough to spit it out. Afterward, he told me that … I'd never again have to worry about leaving behind any bastard or orphaned children in this God-forsaken world. He said that our – mine and his - _**contribution**_ to medical science was invaluable. It wasn't until later that we discovered exactly what his experimental drugs had done to all of the men who were on that mission. I believe that Lagos put his various sterilization agents into his entire water supply and deliberately poisoned the whole area."

"The part about the water was in your report, Carlos. That's how I knew to examine anything that the tainted water might have touched," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "That's also why we sent another team down there to firebomb that mountainside. There have been reports that things are getting back to normal."

"For everyone except me," Carlos rasped. Then his face turned toward mine and his dark, haunted eyes showed vulnerability I'd never seen in him before. He sounded incredibly forlorn when he spoke again. "I shouldn't have gotten married, sir. I've always kept my distance from serious relationships because I'm too damaged. And now … I almost hurt my wife the other day because of what Lagos did to me. I'd never be able to live with myself if something happened to her because of me."

"Carlos, you might not realize that other men - men who aren't as strong as you – haven't survived such terrible personal violations," I said. "They've returned from similar ordeals as broken men and some have ended their own lives because they can't bear the shame of what happened to them while they were in captivity. Others have fallen into extremely self-destructive patterns of behavior."

"Like chasing armed and dangerous fugitives into dark alleys?" he asked. It was reassuring to see that Carlos still possessed at least a tiny spark of his dry sense of humor.

"Something like that," I said, "only much worse. Listen, Carlos, now that I know the full truth of what happened to you in that lab, I think I understand how Eduardo Lagos combined his genetic markers with yours to create the catalyst in the chemical mix of the sterilization agent. Better yet, I think I know how to separate the enzymes and develop the right antidote for you. It still might take a while for your fertility to return to normal, but I'm not worried because you're one of the healthiest men I've ever treated. As for the lingering psychological side effects, though, I'm going to prescribe psychiatric counseling – for both you and your wife."

Carlos merely stared straight ahead and said nothing. The man whom many of his New Jersey associates called "Ranger" was trying very hard to pull himself back together and I watched in silent amazement as he shut down his vulnerability and resumed his veneer of calm aloofness. It was one of the scariest things I'd ever seen. I knew that my breakthrough had come at a high cost to his sense of dignity and privacy, but there were things I could do to help the situation. It was time for me to put on my own "counseling hat" and get to work.

"I really think it would be a good idea for you and your wife to spend some time in Florida," I said abruptly. "Tampa - to be precise - so that I can have better access to your blood and semen. The weathermen are predicting an especially harsh winter and I don't want to keep flying up here now that I'm on the verge of figuring out how to cure you. And … there's something else."

Carlos turned his dark gaze on me and simply said, "Sir?"

"I'd like for you to complete a few months of psychiatric counseling with one of my associates at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Tampa," I replied. "Dr. Ken Fiorelli has had a lot of success treating various levels of PTSD, and although I'm sure that there are plenty of great doctors around here, those of us assigned to SOCOM are more fully aware of the particular issues and complications surrounding your time in service."

"Sir, I don't think that's really necessary," he protested, just as I knew he would. "I completed the required psychiatric counseling sessions after that mission. I know it was a long time ago, but I don't-"

I held up the palm of my hand to stop him from saying anything else. There was no way I'd allow him to slide through the cracks in our medical system again, so I said, "_**Agent**_ Mañoso, I _**will**_ solve your fertility problem, but we both know that we've only scratched the surface of your psychological issues here today."

"I'm not crazy," Carlos insisted.

"I didn't say that you were," I replied. "However, I plan to confer with your current superiors, anyway, and I'll recommend that your handlers place you on administrative leave for the time being. No high-risk cases for you until you've been cleared for duty by one of our psychiatrists. You're in an emotionally precarious place right now, Carlos. Your PTSD could put you and your employees in danger and you've already admitted that you don't want anything to go wrong on your account."

"But sir," he protested again. "My business-"

"Will go on whether you're here or not," I finished his statement. "I did my homework, Carlos. I know that the largest part of your organization is located in Miami. And I know that you have family all over Florida, including Tampa. You set up RangeMan to be able to handle your long absences while you go on your missions for the government. The security business is an excellent cover, as well as a good investment – let it work for you now as you take some time off to straighten out your own life. None of your men need to know about the counseling – unless you want to tell them. As far as they're concerned, you could be in Tampa just so that I can have immediate access to you – just like I did with Silvio and his wife."

Carlos momentarily looked stricken at the magnitude of his entire situation, but he slid back behind his "mask" and merely said, "Yes, sir."

I smiled at him and said, "Listen, Carlos, I won't force you to come down to Tampa. You can stay in New Jersey and try to see a counselor at the VA hospital here, but I think your best bet is to come on down to Florida, where I can guarantee that you'll have priority of care in the medical facility near SOCOM. You can even wait until after the holidays, but I'll come looking for you if you don't show up in the system by the middle of January, understand? And as for your wife, perhaps her boss will let her take a temporary leave of absence from her job."

Carlos almost smiled at my last comment. "You know that my wife works for me, sir," he said. "And _**I**_ know that she'd _**love**_ to spend the winter in Florida."

I chuckled and asked, "When do I get to meet this fascinating woman?"

"She's in our apartment upstairs, sir," Carlos replied. "I'll call for her to come down now."

Carlos was about to press the button on the intercom when his cell phone chirped. He answered the call and both of his eyebrows, as well as the corner of his mouth lifted a fraction. When he ended the call, he placed his finger to his lips to signal for me to be quiet. Then he stood up, quietly walked to his closed office door and quickly yanked it open. He grabbed the arm of someone who had been lurking out in the hallway and pulled him in to the office.

Correction: Carlos pulled _**her**_ in to the office. Standing before me was a lovely young woman, dressed all in black, with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes were wide with shock and she glanced nervously from Carlos to me and then back to Carlos. I suspected that I knew who this person was, and I was right.

"Doctor O'Neill," Carlos said, "Meet Stephanie Plum, my wife."

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

Damn Ranger! I should have known better than to try sneaking up on him. How could I have forgotten that there were security cameras everywhere? Probably, he'd seen me on the monitor feed to his computer screen while I was creeping along the hallway. I felt like a naughty child. I wondered if Ranger would spank me later. Both men's eyebrows raised and it suddenly occurred to me that I had spoken my last few thoughts aloud. Damn Ranger!

I nervously cleared my throat, thrust out my hand to shake the man's outstretched hand, and said, "Good morning, Dr, O'Neill. I'm so pleased to me you. I hope you'll forgive my intrusion, but I was … um, starting to worry that something might have gone wrong during the physical."

"Oh, never fear, my dear," said the doctor with a bright smile. "Your husband is in great physical shape. In fact, he's the perfect patient. We just need to do a little "fine tuning" and he'll be better than ever."

Dr. O'Neill was a tall man with a solid build and salt-and-pepper hair cut short in a military style. His gray eyes sparkled with amusement and I instantly liked him. Although he wasn't wearing a uniform, Ranger had told me that the doctor also was a high-ranking officer in the Army, still assigned to the Special Operations Command headquarters in Tampa, Florida. I easily could imagine the younger version of this man slogging around on the same kinds of missions that Ranger and his men had accomplished.

"Fine tuning?" I asked. "What does that mean?"

I got a squishy feeling in the pit of my stomach when the doctor's smile faded a tiny bit and he said, "Why don't we all sit down to discuss this?"

Ranger guided me to sit next to him on the sofa where we had enjoyed ourselves the night of the party after we returned from Florida. Dr. O'Neill sat in a chair in front of us. As soon as we all were settled, Ranger threaded his fingers through mine, which, of course, made me _**really**_ nervous.

"Stephanie, Babe, there's good news and not-so-good news," Ranger said and then nodded toward the doctor.

"As I said before, Mrs. Mañoso, your husband is in top physical condition," Dr. O'Neill reiterated. "Carlos really has been my most perfect patient all these years. I wish he was still on active duty with the Ranger Regiment. The Army needs more men like him."

Even though I wasn't really surprised, my eyebrows shot upward and I said, "Perfect patient?"

"Absolutely!" exclaimed the doctor "Carlos quit smoking, which is no small feat, and he has implemented every dietary and lifestyle change I ever recommended to him. The outcome has been stellar so far. By practicing such good habits, he's been able to maintain his strength and fitness while I've administered a variety of medical treatments. In fact, Carlos is in better physical condition than most men who are ten years younger than him. It's truly amazing!"

Yes, I knew exactly how amazing his physical condition was. "Wow! That _**is**_ good news!" I exclaimed. "So … everything is okay now?"

The doctor held up the palm of his hand and said, "Well, there's his overall health, which is truly phenomenal, and then there's his fertility, which is not."

I felt Rangers fingers tighten slightly when I breathed a sigh of relief and said, "But that's really not such bad news, doctor, since we're not trying to have children any time in the near future." Somehow, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized that I probably shouldn't have sounded so happy about the situation.

The doctor cut his eyes over to Ranger and then answered me, "Actually, there's more to it than that, Mrs. Mañoso."

"Please call me Stephanie," I said and I instinctively knew that whatever I was about to hear was the true cause of my squishy stomach.

"Stephanie," he nodded and continued, "I understand that you are aware of the events and the aftermath of Major Mañoso's mission down in Colombia."

"Yes, Carlos told me all about it," I said as I felt a trickle of cold sweat roll down between my shoulder blades.

"Although every other man who was on that mission is back to normal now, your husband is not," said the doctor. "However, I believe that I'm on the verge of curing his infertility, also."

"Well then, that's good news, isn't it?" I said as I turned to Ranger and searched his troubled eyes.

"Stephanie," Ranger said, "Dr. O'Neill wants us to come down to Florida for a while. There's a military medical facility in Tampa where he can run more of his tests on me."

The doctor nodded again and said, "Yes. That's where I helped your friends, Silvio and Juanita, when they first got back together. And now, as you know, they're expecting their first child. I've already asked Carlos to provide me with a few more samples before I leave and I'll put them on ice until I reach my lab. However, the fresher the samples are, the more accurate my test results will be. And with a bit more direct access to both of you, I'm sure that I'll be able to put you on the path to parenthood within the next year or so."

My heart began to race. "Parenthood? Wait! Carlos, are you saying that you _**do**_ want to try to have children now?" I asked in a panic.

He shook his head, caressed my hand and said, "No. But like the doctor said, there's more to this than just my physical condition."

"Well, what is it then?" I asked. I could hear a little hysteria creeping into my voice. Now Carlos and Dr. O'Neill really were scaring me.

"Steph," Ranger began, "When I told the doctor about what happened the other morning, he said that … my reactions were most likely due to some delayed post-traumatic stress."

"Okay," I said warily, "But we already figured out that part."

Ranger took a deep breath and said, "There's someone else I need to see down in Florida - a Dr. Fiorelli. He's a … psychiatrist."

"A psychiatrist?" I exclaimed.

D. O'Neill immediately spoke up, "Mrs. Mañoso, Stephanie, we've made tremendous strides in providing counseling services to our soldiers, especially our special operators, many of whom – like your husband - have survived extremely traumatic circumstances. Proper counseling has become a key factor in reducing the number of violent incidents, domestic disturbances and divorces amongst our men and their families. In fact, I believe in it so much, that I'm actually prescribing that your husband undergo a few months of in-depth counseling so that he'll be able to deal with his negative memories in positive ways."

I was very glad to be sitting down because my mind was spinning. What had the doctor said? Violent incidents? Domestic disturbances? Divorce? I knew that Ranger's reaction to my attempt at making love to him had been intense, but I never would have put it in the same category as those things. And now the doctor was sending him to a _**shrink**_? I struggled to concentrate as Dr. O'Neill continued to speak.

"And I'd like for _**you**_ to attend some counseling sessions with him, also," he said.

My head snapped up and I gasped. "What?"

The doctor smiled kindly at me and explained, "I know you're a civilian, Stephanie, and I can't make you do anything, but I think it would be beneficial for both you and Carlos to have some joint sessions with one of our counselors. That way, you'll have a better understanding of the things that can trigger bad memories and you'll learn about better ways to cope, too. I hope you'll at least consider it."

"I … uh …" was all I could say.

Ranger continued to caress the back of my hand and said, "Relax, Babe. We don't have to decide right now. I promised you a honeymoon, and we'll talk about going to Tampa after we return."

"In the interim, I have some practical suggestions for both of you - some temporary measures, if you will - to help both of you feel safe and secure with each other until you begin your counseling sessions," the doctor addressed both of us and then he looked directly at me. "From what Carlos has told me, Stephanie, you two have had a fairly active sex life so far, with only the one bad incident. Because of the circumstances of the torture he suffered, I think it would be best if you didn't attempt to surprise your husband in the bedroom. Make sure that he's fully awake and aware of his surroundings before you try anything … new. Tell him what you're planning to do and give him the option to decline if he thinks it'll be too risky. Do you think you can live within these guidelines?"

My poor brain was in danger of a complete overload, so all I could do was nod my head in semi-dazed agreement.

Then the doctor turned toward Ranger and said, "And _**you**_, Carlos - you should keep your eyes open. Force your brain to understand that the person with you is your loving wife and no one else. If you do decide to come down to Tampa, I'm sure that Dr. Fiorelli will recommend other techniques, but these should get you through your honeymoon without any further … incidents. Again, congratulations to you both and I hope to see you in my office real soon."

The doctor stood up and so did Ranger. He was still holding my hand and he lifted me up with him until we were standing side-by-side. I heard Ranger thanking Dr. O'Neill and promising that we'd be in touch after we made our decision. Somehow, I also was able to shake hands with the doctor and thank him before he left Ranger's office. Then I collapsed back down onto the sofa.

"You okay, Babe?" Ranger asked me.

Again, all I could do was nod my head in mute disbelief. Our discussion with Dr O'Neill had been so revealing and completely overwhelming. Despite what Ranger had said when I asked him about it, I could tell that he really did want to bring another little Mañoso into the world. He just wasn't ready to admit it to himself yet, and I guess I couldn't blame the man for wanting such a thing. Heck, part of me wanted that, too - just not any time soon. Good thing my Batman was still shooting blanks!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

I waited until I heard the sounds of Tank ushering Dr. O'Neill into his office before I said anything else to Stephanie. It was easy to see that she was in a state of semi-shock and I really couldn't blame her. I truly thought that everything would be okay today, especially now that everyone else on the FUBAR Colombia mission was back to normal. Instead, not only was I still infertile, but it also was apparent that my head needed shrinking. Dios! What had done to my Babe's life?

Of course, there was no way I could have predicted the outcome of today's meeting with Dr O'Neill. I know that my Babe was freaked out by his comments about helping us to become parents, even though I had never expressed such an interest. Of course, I didn't think it would be too difficult to convince Steph to come to Florida with me, especially when I explained that it was more about my overall health and not about us trying to have a child of our own, but I was having a hard time convincing my own self that I needed the counseling.

The thing I hated the most was that I wouldn't be able to go out on any of my _**other**_ special government assignments until a head-shrink cleared me for field duty again. No one was going to be happy about that. I knew of at least three high-risk cases that my handlers already wanted me to pursue after the New Year. The doctor was right, though; I _**had**_ set up RangeMan to be able to run without my direct day-to-day involvement so that I could deploy on these various missions. I only prayed that I'd be able to go through the psychiatric counseling and get back into the game as quickly as possible.

I snuck a glance at Steph Babe, but she was still silently sitting there, staring blankly out the window. Suddenly, she turned to me asked, "When did you decide you wanted us to have a child together?"

I quickly replied, "I didn't."

"Then why did Dr. O'Neill keep talking about helping us have a baby?" she asked.

I winced. "Sorry, Babe. The doctor just assumed that's what we would want."

"Is that what _**you**_ want?" she asked, her voice sounding slightly anxious.

Pulling her close to my chest in what I hoped was a reassuring embrace, I told her, "I want to be healthy and I want you to be happy. That's all."

"You're sure?" she asked as she pulled away far enough to gaze into my eyes. "Dr. O'Neill bragged about you being his perfect patient. I never knew you used to smoke and drink and eat too much. I figured you had always been a health nut."

I shook my head. "No, not always. I got scared after Abuela Blanca began to suffer from her diabetes. And I had to make a lot of changes after the doctor first started running tests on me. When we discovered that the antidotes to the poison in my system worked best with a healthier lifestyle, I got serious about making the right choices for my body. And I've tried to influence my men to make healthier choices, too."

"That's the _**real**_ reason there aren't any snack-vending machines in this building, isn't it?" she asked.

I smiled a little and said, "Babe."

The gears were still turning very quickly in Steph's mind when she asked, "Won't the doctor expect us to have a successful pregnancy after he completes his work on you? I mean, that's what this Tampa trip is really all about, isn't it?"

"This is about my _**health**_," I reiterated. "I really don't care about what the doctor expects from us, but it's not right for a man to be infertile. Honestly, Babe, it's ... humiliating. That's the main reason I kept sending you back to Morelli; I knew he could give you something that I couldn't. In my mind I justified it because he was whole and I was ... not."

"I'm sorry you felt that way, Carlos," she said and lowered her eyes.

"Not your fault," I said as I gently lifted her chin with my index finger and gazed into her blue eyes. "Listen, Babe, we both know that neither of us is ready for parenthood at this time in our lives. Hell, we're barely ready for marriage. Nevertheless, I need for you to understand that I have to be _**capable**_ of providing you with a child, even if we never decide to have one."

"I think I do understand, Carlos," she said. "I'm just a little freaked out right now, especially with all this talk about tests and appointments with other doctors and such. You're sure you don't want Dr. O'Neill to get us pregnant when we're down in Florida?"

I smiled and kissed Steph on her forehead. Thankfully, she relaxed against me and sighed. I could feel the tension drain out of her as she decided to believe me. Then I felt the tension rising in my own body as it reacted to the warmth of her closeness. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the sample collection cup and the small rack of four test tubes sitting on my desk, all labeled and waiting to be filled.

I smiled and whispered in her ear, "Hey, Wonder Woman, how would you like to help me maintain my status as Dr. O'Neill's most perfect patient?"

"What?" Steph asked as she leaned away from me to gaze quizzically into my eyes.

I explained to her about the doctor needing more samples and how I _**could**_ do what I had to do on my own to get the job done, but that it would be much more fun if she helped me. Steph's chuckle sounded husky and I knew she wanted the same thing I did at that moment. Her cooperation was reassuringly… enthusiastic, and I was very glad that my office was soundproof. Afterward, we held each other and kissed for a while longer until it was time for us to get dressed and face the world again.

"Babe," I said before we opened the office door. "Everything's gonna be alright." And I meant it.

Steph turned to me and smiled and I knew then that she truly trusted me. She kissed me lightly on the lips and then we walked out into the hallway. The heads of several of my men popped back inside of their offices and I wondered if my office was as soundproof as I'd always thought it was. I didn't care. Perfect patient or not, I was determined to do whatever it would take to be the man I wanted to be – healthy, happy and whole.

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**A/N: We all have events in our past that we wish we could change. None of us are able to go back in time, so a lot of us live in denial against our unpleasant memories. I'm neither a doctor nor a licensed counselor – nor have I played one on TV – but my mother was a psychiatric nurse in the military and when I was on active duty I used to have to counsel my soldiers on a variety of things, including work performance issues and personal problems. I've sent soldiers to professional counseling sessions for their own good and I've also attended more than a few sessions for my own benefit. I always do a lot of research for my writing habit and I enjoy sharing the things I've learned along the way within the pages of my stories. I hope you liked this chapter and I truly appreciate all of your continued support, as well as your honest reviews. Thanks! :D**


	32. Chapter 32

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: This chapter about the events surrounding Steph's Italian dinner was originally part of the previous chapter, but I decided to divide them and let them stand on their own. I had hoped to post it earlier than this, but the summer adventures with my kids have kept me away from my computer for a while. I'm sorry it's been such a long time since my last update. RL has been hectic, as usual, but I'm breathing a sigh of relief and joy today because my son just completed his service project to earn his Eagle Scout rank. Yay! School here will start in ten days (after Labor Day) and I'm hoping to do a lot of writing before then. Thanks for continuing to read my story. Enjoy! **

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_I stomped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Ranger was making coffee. "I'm going out," I said._

_"Where are you going?"_

"_I'm going out for muffins."_

"_Give me five minutes to get my shoes on."_

"_I don't have five minutes," I said. "I have things to do. I've got the panic button. I'll be fine. I'll bring a muffin back for you. What do you want, zucchini, no fat, no sugar, extra bran?"_

_I turned to go and Ranger scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom and tossed me onto the bed. "Five minutes," he said, lacing his shoes._

_I lay there spread-eagle, waiting for him. "Very macho," I said._

_He grabbed my hand and yanked me to my feet. "Sometimes you try my patience."_

"_You don't like it? You can leave."_

_He slammed me into the wall and kissed me. "I didn't say I didn't like it."_

"_Okay, good to get that straightened out," I said. "Are we going to get muffins, or what?"_

_Twelve Sharp_

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**Chapter 32: Amateur Therapists**

**Stephanie's POV**

I've always possessed a very independent streak. I like to do things for myself and by myself. This, of course, drives my mother crazy. She raised me to be a loyal member of a loving, smothering family and I know I've been a big disappointment to her. Part of me wishes I could fly away to a secluded island somewhere and just be alone for as long as I wanted. I suspect that the man to whom I've been married for almost one week has a similar disposition and would love to be off by himself, too. Guess I should be the glad the _**other**_ parts of both of us really enjoy being together with each other, right?

Speaking of being together, helping Ranger maintain his status as a "perfect patient" turned out to be quite pleasurable. It was a little icky when he had to stop for a moment and fill the collection jar, but then he made up for it by starting all over again. By the time I left his office, I felt so mellow that I didn't care that the doctor wanted me to see the shrink along with him. In fact, I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to summon the energy to prepare our dinner.

Ranger walked me to the elevator and kissed me deeply before the doors closed. We ignored the hoots and wolf whistles in the background. Probably someone was going to have to meet Ranger on the mats in the morning, but that wasn't my concern. As a lawfully-married couple now, Ranger and I could "do the deed" pretty much wherever and whenever we wanted. I just relaxed and smiled and waved at the security camera in the elevator and decided to let the Merry Men think whatever they wanted to think.

As soon as I entered the apartment, though, I became a madwoman. It took me almost an hour of searching through every single drawer and cabinet in the kitchen, but I finally found all of the pots and pans and utensils that I would need in order to make dinner. And I did it all by myself! Then it took me another hour and a half to wash, peel and chop all of the vegetables. Part of me knew that I was being foolish and that I should just call Ella. She'd certainly be more than happy to help me, but I felt that I _**had**_ to make this dinner on my own. I couldn't explain it, but it was just something that I needed to do.

While the sausage was browning in the largest saucepan I could find, I mentally reviewed my morning. First, I had stupidly insisted that I would make this authentic Italian meal for Ranger and then I'd had to endure the shopping trip from hell to get all of the ingredients. Then I'd had to listen to Ranger's doctor tell me things I didn't want to hear. Thankfully, my period was over because the only good thing that had happened this morning was making love with Ranger in his office.

When I was out shopping, I had stopped by the bakery to buy a loaf of Italian bread for my special meal, as well as a tiramisu for dessert. Of course, while I was there I also bought some donuts. Ever since Ranger discovered that I could have a little sugar in my diet and still be hot for him, he hadn't harassed me about my donut habit as much as before. Biting into a Boston crème to relieve the stress of the day, I savored its familiar flavor and smiled at the realization that if Ranger walked into the kitchen at that moment, I'd still want to jump his bones.

I was still reminiscing about my time with Ranger when I smelled something burning. Crap! I really needed to pay closer attention while cooking. Fortunately, the meat wasn't too badly burned and I was able to pick out most of the charred bits. If Grandma Mazur was back in town, she'd probably tell me to just add more garlic to the tomato sauce to mask most of the yucky taste. I didn't want to ask my mother for advice, so I decided to call Connie, instead. She was fully Italian and probably knew a lot more about cooking traditional dishes than I did.

After I scraped the meat into a bowl and rinsed out the saucepan, I padded into the living room to find my purse. I groaned when I finally dug my cell phone out of the deepest recess of my purse and saw that there were several messages. People must have been returning my calls all morning while I had been down in Ranger's office with him and the good doctor. Note to self: Remember to clip cell phone to waistband while in the building.

Connie picked up on the second ring. "Hullo? Stephanie? Where are you?"

"I'm at RangeMan," I said. "And I need your advice on something … er, domestic."

Connie laughed and said, "You'd probably be better off talking to Lula. I just got off the phone with Vince, and from what he tells me, your expertise probably exceeds mine by now."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Connie chuckled and then she explained her remark. "It seems that you made Ranger a very happy man this morning. In fact, Vince says that none of the Merry Men have ever seen Ranger this happy before. So if you're asking for bedroom advice, you'll just have to wait until Lula gets back to the office."

Omigod! "Vince has a big mouth," I snapped, very glad that Connie couldn't see my red face. I wondered if everyone in the building had heard me and Ranger going at it when I was with him in his office. How embarrassing! Then I took a deep breath to calm down and continued. "I said _**domestic**_ advice, Connie, not bedroom advice. Actually, I need help with what I'm cooking for dinner." And then I explained to her what I was attempting to accomplish, as well as what had happened so far."

"Who has time for all that peeling and chopping? Don't tell my mother, but I usually just heat up a jar of sauce and pour it over my noodles," Connie admitted. "I only make homemade sauce when I have absolutely nothing else better to do – and that isn't very often. Besides, I guarantee that Ranger won't know or care if you make it yourself. Vince certainly doesn't."

"Hey! It sounds like you and Vince are getting kind of serious," I said.

"I guess you could say that," Connie replied and I could hear the smile in her voice. "He's taking me down to Cape May to meet his parents this weekend. I still haven't figured out the best way to introduce him to my family, yet. My cousin, Tina Marie, is getting married next month, but I don't think I should wait that long. Maybe I could take him to my Uncle Jimmy's for brunch after Mass next Sunday. Everyone will be there because it's my Great-Aunt Angelica's birthday and we always make a big deal out of it. She'll be ninety-three years old this year."

"Uh-oh, Connie, you know what this means, don't you?" I asked.

"Yeah," she giggled. "And I've already started to look at engagement rings online."

"I can hardly wait to see Vinnie's reaction when he finds out that all of his current employees probably are going to be married by this time next year," I said.

"Well, not Joyce," Connie said.

I sucked in air and said, "Don't tell me that Vinnie hired Joyce Barnhart again?"

"Okay, I won't tell you," Connie said. "Aw, crap! Here she comes now and I can see her little demon horns through her badly-dyed red hair. I gotta go."

I've hated Joyce Barnhart since kindergarten, so I said, "Kick her ass for me, okay, Connie?"

"My pleasure, Stephanie," Connie laughed. "Vinnie won't like it, but I don't care!"

I could hear Joyce's evil voice in the background asking if Vinnie was in his office. Connie had covered the telephone's mouthpiece, but I could hear her telling Joyce that Vinnie was down at the courthouse. Then I heard some odd swishing noises and what sounded like a door opening and closing.

Connie's voice came back on the line and she said, "You should see the outfit Joyce is wearing today. I didn't know they made vinyl leggings for satanic worms."

We both laughed at that and then I asked, "So, what should do about my dinner?"

Connie sighed and said, "Listen to me, Stephanie; just go out to the closest grocery store and buy some sauce in a jar. Bertolli's makes a nice tomato-basil and I like Rinaldi's marinara, too. Or, better yet, you could get take-out from Pino's."

Groaning, I replied, "But that feels like cheating. I wanted tonight's dinner to be special. I really wanted Ranger to see that I could actually cook for him myself."

"Stephanie, trust me," Connie said. "Ranger didn't marry you for your cooking and cleaning skills. He's got his housekeeper for _**that**_. Why don't you just let Ella fix dinner for you? Vince tells me she's a great cook and that treats all the men who work in the building as if they were her own sons. You're a lucky woman, I tell ya'!"

Vince and his big mouth strike again! I set my jaw and answered, "That's beside the point! This dinner is just something I have to do, all right? Now, are you gonna help me out here or what?"

Connie sucked in air. "Jeez, Louise! You don't have to take my head off. If you really want to do this on your own, here's what I suggest you do." Then she proceeded to tell me how to salvage my meal and make the best of a bad situation.

"Thanks, Connie!" I said with a sigh of relief after she was finished. "You're a true lifesaver. I owe you one!"

"Yeah, yeah," she replied. "You can repay me by convincing your new husband to take on a couple of our high-bond cases. Joyce is the devil incarnate and I wish to God that Vinnie hadn't hired her again. I know you're only gonna be working here part-time and Lula's doing the best she can, but we both know that she'll never be half as good as you are. Things are so busy around here that Vinnie's chasing skips again."

I gasped. "Vinnie's out on the streets, too?"

"Yep," she said. "He keeps bonding out a bunch of low-bond losers that even Lula can find, but still, the number of skips is overwhelming. It sure would be nice if RangeMan could pick up some of the slack - hint, hint."

"I'll come by tomorrow," I promised and then I added before disconnecting, "I'll also talk to Ranger and see what I can do." Connie thanked me, wished me luck and then disconnected.

It took me a little while, but I was able to do all the things Connie suggested. As soon as the fragrant sauce was simmering on the stove, I went back to the living room and listened to all of my phone messages. My mother had called me five times - mostly to tell me how upset she was over a variety of things, including missing my visit to the Burg that morning. Valerie had called three times to tell me how nauseous she felt and that she hoped I would be able to join her in the joys of morning sickness very soon. There were two messages from my father, including one telling me that my mother was upset because Grandma Mazur had decided to stay in Florida for another week. Of course, this was good news for me, because it gave me more time to fix up my old apartment for Grandma.

The messages from Mary Lou and Lula were, not surprisingly, very similar. They both wanted more details about my married love life. Everybody had been fantasizing about Ranger for such a long time and now they wanted to know if my reality lived up to their dreams. Well, friends or not, they were demanding more information than I was willing to share with them at this time. Still, I decided to call Lula first, since she was the only person I knew who might be able to help me with a different situation. She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, married lady! What's goin' on?" Lula then launched into a sorry rendition of the old Marvin Gaye song.

"Where are you?" I asked, interrupting her off-key singing. "I just called the office and chatted with Connie for a while. She told me that Joyce is working for Vinnie again. Are you okay?"

"Hell yeah, I'm okay!" Lula replied. "Joyce knows she'd better stay out of _**my**_ way. Besides, I just picked my body receipt for Stinky Malone. You remember him? He's the guy who likes to take a dump on the front porches of local politicians he's not too pleased with. Caught him right in front of Councilman Conti's house before he could leave another one of his 'messages,' if you know what I mean. He was an easy catch, 'cause he was squatting with his pants down when I snuck up on him and slapped the cuffs around his wrists."

"Eew!" I exclaimed. "Why does Vinnie keep bonding out these guys?"

"Someone's gotta do it," she said and I could almost hear her shrug. "Besides, business is business."

I sighed. "I guess you're right. But I didn't call to talk shop. Well, I suppose it _**could**_ be considered something like that, but-"

"Stephanie, what's wrong?" Lula interrupted me.

"Nothing," I replied too quickly.

Lula tsked at me and said, "Girl, you know I can hear it in your voice that something ain't right. Now what is it? Is Batman treating you all right? I was thinking that things must be going pretty good in that big ol' king-size bed of yours, because I didn't hear from you all weekend. Like I said in my message, I want details, girlfriend, and lots of 'em!"

"Everything is … fine," I said, not wanting to reveal too much about my intimate life with Ranger.

"Fine?" Lula said. "Uh-oh! That don't sound good. What happened? Did you and Batman have your first fight? I bet he got all quiet and wouldn't say nothin' to you. And then you got all pissy with him and stormed off. Am I right? But you know what they say about fightin', don't you? The makin' up part is _**hot**_, that's what! You wanna talk about it?"

"There wasn't a fight," I insisted. "It's been great, so far, really. Well, except for the fact that I got my period last week."

"Bummer," she said and I could imagine her wincing. "Ain't Mother Nature a bitch? That must have happened after the party we threw last week. I remember you had that 'newlywed glow' when you got back from Florida. You looked well and truly loved."

"Yeah," I said dreamily, "Carlos – er, Ranger – is an amazing lover."

Lula laughed aloud and said, "Amazing, huh? With a body that fine, your Batman _**must**_ be out of this world. I mean, he convinced you to marry him and that's something Officer Hottie never accomplished. Now Ranger's got you callin' him by his real name and I can guess how he did that. Still, you don't sound too happy right now, so are you gonna tell me what's goin' on, or what?"

Or what, I thought. No way was I going to "kiss and tell" – especially not to Lula. Ranger would _**not**_ appreciate me blabbing the particulars of our private life to all my gossipy friends. The Merry Men probably already knew too much, especially after this morning. And even though Ranger and I were getting pretty good at ducking and dodging away from the security cameras that were all over this building, people still knew what was going on.

"Well, I _**did**_ call for your advice on something," I said to Lula, "I don't want things to become, you know, routine in the bedroom." I figured this was the one aspect of my marriage that her "expertise" as a former "ho" might actually come in handy

"Routine?" Lula gasped. "Stephanie, do _**not**_ tell me that Batman is boring in bed!"

"No, no!" I quickly back-pedaled. Ranger would _**kill**_ me if such a rumor ever reached his ears. "It's not that! We're having great sex. Exciting sex. Really, we are. I just want to … um, _**surprise**_ Ranger."

"Surprise him?" Lula asked. "Girl, you married _**Batman**_. He knows everything."

"Exactly," I said, continuing to wrack my brain for a suitable reason for requesting her help. "I'm already cooking dinner for Ranger tonight, but I'd like to 'celebrate' the fact that my period is gone. What do you think would surprise the man who knows everything?" I wasn't going to tell her that Ranger and I had already "celebrated" earlier in the day.

Now Lula was really interested in helping me. "I bet he'd be surprised if you did something real kinky. Say, what about the gifts that me and Tank gave you? I know you probably were saving them for later, but it's never too soon to have fun with those toys! And the possibilities are endless."

"Um … yes, the toys," I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"You should try the handcuffs, first," Lula continued with more enthusiasm. "Just tell Ranger you need another lesson on how to do a better job at securing your skips. You _**know**_ how much that man likes to help you out."

I was pretty sure that this stunt would go against the advice that Dr. O'Neill had just given to me. "I don't know if I can pull that off," I admitted to Lula. "I mean, what if _**I'm**_ the one who ends up getting handcuffed? How can I surprise Ranger when he's trickier – and stronger - than I am?"

"Well, first off, you should just lock Ranger to the bedpost while he's asleep," Lula advised. "That's what I did to Tank and we had lots of fun after that. Now we're engaged again."

I sighed and said, "There's no bedpost on Ranger's bed.

"You're kidding!" Lula said. "What kind of a person doesn't have a bed with a bedpost? That's un-American!"

"Most of the furniture here is very sleek and modern," I explained. "The headboard on the bed is one solid piece of wood. No posts - just smooth wood – so there's no place to secure any handcuffs."

"Hunh!" Lula said. "Okay, how 'bout this? What if you just wear a pair of those edible undies that Lester gave you? Throw on a robe and when you greet Ranger at the door tonight, open up the robe and invite him in. I guarantee he'll be surprised by that."

"That could be-," I said, but before I could finish my sentence, I heard a loud piercing noise.

Then I realized that I could smell smoke coming from the kitchen. Damn! My sauce was burning! I told Lula I had to go and then I disconnected the call and shoved my phone into my pants pocket. Then I rushed into the kitchen to save my dinner. Stupid me! I had forgotten to put the lid onto the saucepan and its contents had bubbled over and dripped down into the gas flames under the burner. Unfortunately, in my haste to salvage whatever I could, I forgot to use a potholder to protect my hand and I yowled in pain when I tried to pick up the hot panhandle.

I immediately dropped the pan back onto the stovetop and sauce sloshed out all over the stove. The good news was that the tidal wave of sauce had extinguished the burner flames, so I didn't have to worry about a kitchen fire. The bad news was that the smelly smoke was horrible and my hand hurt like hell. I was frantically searching for the switch to turn on the kitchen exhaust fan when a loud knocking on the apartment's door startled me.

"Stephanie, it's Hal! Are you okay?" he shouted. "Ranger's in a meeting, so he sent me up to check on you."

"Uh … there's no cause for concern, Hal!" I yelled at the closed door. "I just had a little kitchen mishap with the stove, that's all. It smells worse than it really is. Everything's under control now!" _Liar, liar, pants on fire_, I thought, but there was no way was I going to open that door and let anyone see the huge mess I'd made in Ranger's formerly pristine kitchen. Thankfully, I'd found the exhaust fan switch and had turned it on.

"We noticed the smoke alarm icon on the monitor downstairs, but there wasn't an abnormal reading on the heat sensor," Hal said. "Are you sure everything's okay in there? I'd feel a lot better if you'd let me in so I can take a look at the stove. Just in case, you know."

Yeah, right! Hal was sadly mistaken if he thought that I'd let allow him to set one foot inside and see me in my current state of disarray. RangeMan probably had sensors and alarm indicators all over this apartment, hardwired into the control center monitors, so he knew that there wasn't an active fire here. While I was holding my slightly burned hand under the stream of cold water from the kitchen faucet and trying to figure out a way for Hal not to get into trouble with Ranger for not carrying out his orders, my cell phone rang. I knew it was Ranger because of the Batman theme music.

As I dug the phone out of my pocket with my uninjured hand, I told myself to stay calm. Then I flipped open the phone and answered in my best attempt at a casual tone of voice, "Yo."

There was silence for a beat and then Ranger asked, "Babe, is everything okay up there?"

"Of course it is!" I said with mock enthusiasm. "Why do you ask?"

"Hal just informed me that the smoke alarm is still sounding off, but you won't let him in to the apartment," he replied.

I sighed and tried to explain. "That's because everything's okay. I explained to him that some of the sauce bubbled over the side of the pan and burned. Sure, it caused a little smoke, but now that I've turned on the exhaust fan, the smell should go away pretty quickly. If you tell me how to open up one of these fancy-dancey windows in this apartment, I'll be able to pull in some fresh air, too."

More silence. I could tell that Ranger was trying to maintain his control. Probably, he also was trying to figure out whether or not I was being truthful. I hoped I had sounded convincing, but then he said, "Maybe I should send Ella up-"

"No! Everything's fine!" I interrupted him. "Don't send Ella! I just have to do a little cleaning, but it won't be a problem. Really."

Silence again. I knew we were still connected because I could hear Ranger breathing. He finally said, "I'll be there in a minute."

"No!" I yelled, but he had already disconnected.

Even though I knew I should try to do something, I felt like I was frozen in place. The kitchen was a complete mess and there was no time for me to clean up anything. I would have run back to the bedroom to hide behind the clothes in the dressing room, but I knew that would be pointless. Ranger would find me without even trying and then we'd probably get into the kind of fight that Lula had assumed we'd already gotten into earlier. It seemed like only seconds had passed when I heard muffled voices outside of the apartment door. Then the door lock tumbled and Ranger entered the kitchen.

I said nothing as Ranger assessed the damage with his own eyes. There were scraps of vegetables and peelings all over the kitchen's granite counters and sauce was still dripping down the front of the stove and onto the tile floor. Ranger's jaw tensed, but he said nothing as he opened one of the drawers, calmly pulled out a wooden spoon and used its handle to reach up and press the button to silence the still-screeching smoke alarm.

When Ranger finally shook his head and said, "Babe," I launched into my defensive mode.

"Listen, Carlos," I said, "It's not as bad as it looks – or smells."

"Stephanie," he cut his eyes toward me and said, "I've never seen such a mess in here and … you killed the stovetop. Look, it's bleeding all over itself. Maybe I _**should**_ give you a spanking after all."

"You wouldn't dare!" I replied indignantly, remembering my murmured comment about a spanking in front of him and the doctor earlier that day.

Ranger's only reply was a raised eyebrow and I suddenly felt my face get hot. And that wasn't the only part of my body that began to heat up, either. Suddenly, a spanking didn't seem like such a bad idea after all. Nevertheless, I forced myself to stay focused on the immediate issue at hand.

I put as much frostiness as I could muster into my voice and said, "If you had stayed away, I would have had a chance to clean up. And I did _**not**_ kill the stove, Carlos. That's just the sauce - I _**told**_ you it bubbled over."

Then both of his eyebrows shot upward and he said, "Bubbled over? Steph, this kitchen looks like a war zone! What the hell have you been doing in here?"

All of my frustrations from the day so far rushed into my brain and overloaded my ability to stay calm under pressure and I …exploded. "What the hell have I been doing, you ask? I've been trying to cook a special dinner for _**you**_, that's what!"

"Listen, Babe-" he began, but I cut him off.

"No, _**you**_ listen, Carlos!" I snapped. "Do you have any idea how many pots and pans are in this kitchen. Too many – that's how many! It took me a friggin' hour to find the ones I needed. And then there was all the washing and peeling and chopping and sautéing. This is why I hate vegetables - they're such a pain in the ass! No wonder the women back in the old country didn't work outside the home. They must have spent half of their lives shopping for food, preparing the meals and cleaning up after everyone. This really sucks!"

"Let me see your hand," he insisted.

Crap! I had hoped he wouldn't notice that. Silly me! Ranger notices _**everything**_. I shook my head and hid my injured hand behind my back.

"Stephanie, now!" he ordered, clearly on the verge of losing his patience with me.

Wincing at Ranger's tone of voice, I slowly extended my arm toward him so that he could examine the palm of my hand more closely. At first, his nostrils flared with anger. I held my breath as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself and then he said, "You'll live." And he lifted my hand to his lips to gently kiss the tender, reddened skin.

"Thank you, doctor," I said in as soothing a voice as I could manage and I watched his eyes darken with desire.

"Now, about this dinner," he began again, much softer this time.

I wasn't feeling _**that**_ friendly yet, so I dropped my gaze and stared at the sauce-splattered floor. "I'm sorry, Carlos, but I think it's safe to say that the meal I was preparing for us is completely ruined now."

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. "That doesn't matter to me," he said. "I'm just glad you're safe and relatively unharmed. I can replace a stove, but I can't replace you. We'll put a bandage on your hand now and deal with the kitchen later." Then he kissed me deeply and I felt my knees go weak.

I sat on one of the barstool chairs while Ranger applied some sort of soothing antiseptic ointment to my injury and wrapped gauze around it. His dark eyes searched mine and wondered what he was looking for. When he was done applying first aid, I thanked him and he embraced me again. I rested my head against his chest until he began to speak.

"I'm going to send Ella up here to help you clean up," he said.

"No, I can handle this by myself," I said, stiffening my spine and holding back my tears of frustration. "I'm your wife now, Carlos. At the very least, I should be able to cook a friggin' meal for you."

"But your hand-" he said and I cut him off.

"Isn't all that bad," I said. "You said so yourself."

"I _**said**_ you'll live. But, you shouldn't get the bandage wet," he complained. "I'd feel better if I knew Ella was helping you."

I shook my head. "No, Carlos. We both know that I'm not much of a housekeeper, but this is important to me. I can clean up this mess with one hand. No problemo! And I'm sure that I can get everything to be the way I want it to be by six o'clock tonight."

Ranger held on to my shoulders and gently pulled me into a standing position close to him. Then he lifted my chin until we made eye contact. "Babe, this isn't the Burg," he said, his dark eyes boring into mine. "I'm not your mother. I'm not your father. I'm not Joe Morelli. It's nice that you wanted to cook for me tonight, but I don't expect you to do this every night – or any night, for that matter. And we can eat whenever we want to eat – or not." The readiness I felt in his body made the double meaning of his last comment crystal-clear.

"I … I know that," I stammered, feeling somewhat relieved that he could still want me after I had ruined his beautiful kitchen.

"If you really don't want Ella's help, I'll let you do your own thing this time," he said. "But if your hand gets infected, I will _**not**_ be happy, understand?"

I nodded. "I understand. And I'm … really sorry about the mess."

"Did you … burn the salad, too?" he asked solemnly.

"What?" I exclaimed and I shot him a confused look.

Ranger tightened one strong arm around my waist as he waved his other arm in a sweeping gesture and said, "I just wanted to know if all this damage included my salad. You _**did**_ remember my salad, didn't you?"

Only when I squinted up at him did I notice the tiny hint of smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Obviously, Ranger had been toying with me the entire time. And now I could tell that he was enjoying my discomfort a bit too much. My combined Hungarian and Italian tempers flared.

"Out!" I said angrily and I pushed away from him. "Since you think this is so funny, you can just go back downstairs until I'm ready for you."

Ranger reached for me and pulled me close to him again. "But what if _**I'm**_ ready for you right now, querida?" And, of course, he was.

Sometimes I can be a real idiot. Of course Ranger didn't care about my ability to make a home-cooked meal and have it on the table at a certain time every night. This whole mess was a self-inflicted experience in me trying to fulfill my own unrealistic expectations. Sheesh! Maybe I really did need to see a shrink after all. Nevertheless, I suddenly felt like a woman on a mission again. The Batman and Wonder Woman hook-up would just have to wait.

"Un-uh, Carlos," I said, shaking my head and willing myself to step away from him. "You asked for salad and salad's what you're gonna get. But you'll have to leave now and don't come back up here until six o'clock."

Now Ranger looked confused. "Babe, you don't really want me stay away from the apartment until six o'clock, do you?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. As you can see, I have a lot of work to do before our dinner tonight," I replied as we both glanced around at the disaster I had made in the kitchen. It was already half-past three o'clock. If I hurried – and if I tied a plastic bag over my injured hand - I figured I might be able to clean up after myself in time for Ranger's return. Stifling a groan, I pushed Ranger toward the apartment door and said, "You may come back here at six o'clock _**sharp**_ - and not a minute earlier, or else."

"Or else what?" he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes and said in my best menacing tone of voice, "I just might have to kill you."

"Babe," was all he said. Then, to my great surprise, Ranger inclined his head to me, turned and left the apartment without a fight.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

My Babe never disappoints. I guess I had expected a much bigger mess when I ran up to assess the damage in our smoky apartment, but I was quite surprised. Not only had Steph not burned down the place, but it really wasn't all that bad. In fact, when we were young teenagers, my cousin, Val, and I had made far worse messes in my Abuela Blanca's kitchen before we got the hang of cooking. Of course, I wasn't going to confess that to Steph until later - perhaps _**much**_ later.

At precisely 1730 hours (_5:30 p.m_.), I called Bobby Santos and Tank into my office. After they were seated on the sofa, I informed them that Stephanie and I would be working out of the Miami office for a few months during the first part of the new year. I also explained the basics of what had happened during Dr. O'Neill's visit. They glanced at each other and then began to grin. It was then that I knew for sure that the sounds of my Babe's enthusiastic exclamations had made it past the supposedly sound-proof walls of my office. Sighing, I decided to address the issue immediately, before things became unbearable.

"Fine," I said as I fixed both Tank and Bobby with a glare. "I'll have Louis put up some thicker sound-proofing panels ASAP."

"Whatever, boss-man," Bobby said and his grin grew wider. "I just want to know if you're gonna issue everyone a set of noise-cancelling headphones to block out the sounds of Tank and Lula's nooners once they get married. No one wants to hear tha-"

"Hey!" Tank interrupted. "What makes you think I'd bring Lula up in here like that?"

Bobby's eyebrows shot upward and he said, "What makes you think she won't barge her way into your office and take you on the floor every day that Ranger's down in Miami? Damn, Tank! We already placed our bets as to when you're gonna get lucky on _**your**_ desk." Then he waggled his eyebrows at me as though he knew that's what Stephanie and I had done this morning.

"Settled down, you two," I said as Tank started to get red in the face. "I didn't call you in here so that you could bicker like a couple of old women."

"Why else did you call us in?" asked Tank. "I mean, I think we understand that you'll be gone for the first couple of months of the New Year, but what else is going on? You look … tense."

I glared at him, but he was unfazed, so I began to explain. "I'm sure you've already heard by now that Stephanie has been trying to cook. Hal and I checked on her earlier and the good news is that the kitchen was still intact when we left and there haven't been any other alarms since then."

They both snickered and then stopped abruptly when they noticed that I wasn't smiling.

"Anyway," I continued, "I think she's planning a special evening, if you know what I mean, and I need for one of you to be on standby tonight. I'm hoping that I won't have another flashback, but there aren't any guarantees about that."

Both of them sobered up and nodded their understanding, even though Bobby spoke first. "I got your back, Ranger. I'll sleep with my pager on in my apartment all night, just in case. Call me if you need me."

"What about your fiancée?" I asked.

Bobby shook his head and said, "Not an issue. Vivian went back to Philly. She has to turn in two research papers before Thanksgiving and she told me she'd kill me with her bare hands if I showed up on her doorstep before next Thursday."

"Sounds familiar," I said as I remembered Steph's last statement to me. "Think we can hire her on as RangeMan's private doctor once she finishes all of her schooling?"

Bobby laughed. "Only if you plan on hiring lots of pregnant women in the future. Remember, boss, my Viv's gonna be an OB/GYN – a ladies' doctor, you know."

I nodded. Of course I remembered Vivian's plans, but I still wondered if I could convince her to become a trauma surgeon instead. It would make my life a lot easier if I had a few private doctors with special skills, such as bullet removal, on my payroll. Glancing at the clock, I realized that I still had fifteen minutes before my Babe wanted me to show up at the apartment. Well, screw that! After I thanked my men for their continued discretion and dismissed them, I bounded up the stairs to the seventh floor.

Someone must have called Stephanie and warned her that I was on my way up because the minute I opened the apartment door, there she stood, blocking my way with one of her shapely legs propped against the doorframe. She had on a white leather jacket and a pair of strange-looking panties. Obviously, my Babe had been in the middle of getting dressed, but she'd only managed to put on half of her outfit before she ran to the door. This was a good deal for me, because it meant that it would take less time to undress her, anyway.

"You're very early," she said as she narrowed her eyes at me. "I _**know**_ I asked you not to arrive before six o'clock sharp. Now you're in trouble."

I lifted an eyebrow and asked, "What kind of trouble?"

"The worst," she said, only her voice sounded like a cross between a growl and a purr. Every part of me was paying close attention now.

"You still have sauce in your hair," I said, changing the subject. Then I reached out to pull at a dried clump of tomato goo sticking to a few strands of her wild and curly hair.

"And you're gonna help me wash every bit of it out of my hair," she replied. "But that'll be later – much, _**much**_ later."

I lowered my voice seductively and sort-of apologized, "I'm sorry you ran out of time to get ready, but I'm not sorry that I get to see you like _**this**_."

"That's funny," she said and I could tell that she didn't think it was funny at all. "You know, I _**thought**_ I had more time to get ready. When I got a warning call that you were on your way up, I was barely able to throw on this much of my outfit before I heard the lock tumble."

"Who called you?" I asked. Whoever it was, he was going to meet me on the mats in the morning. I would have loved to have surprised my Babe while she was dressing.

She slowly shook her head and said, "A girl's got to have at least a few secrets, especially when _**you**_ don't play by the rules."

"What rules?" I tried not to smirk, but the expression on Steph's face told me that I was very close to making her mad.

"My rules!" she said testily. "I had a perfectly good plan to have everything ready – including myself – by six o'clock, which was the time I asked you to show up. But could you do as I asked you to do? No! You had to come up here early.

"The early bird catches the worm," I reminded her.

She narrowed her eyes again and growled, "Are you calling me a worm?"

Damn! I knew I had just crossed the line. Quickly back-pedaling, I said, "No, Babe, not at all. I only meant that it's better to be early."

"Hmph!" she scoffed. "Well, at least the kitchen is clean. And I kept my bandage dry, as you can see." She held up her injured hand as proof and somehow, she managed to make her middle finger more prominent than the others. Nevertheless, I was turned on by her fiery attitude, as well as her provocative posture.

"I'm impressed," I said. "Or should I say, I _**will**_ be impressed after I've seen the kitchen with my own eyes. Aren't you going to let me in?" Then I ran my hand up the entire length of her leg and slid my fingers under the edge of her panties.

"I'm still thinking about it," she replied defiantly, but I could detect a slight waiver in her voice as I played with the string at the side of her strange underwear.

"What _**is**_ this?" I asked and I tugged on the string.

She paused to allow her eyes to follow the movements of my fingers and then she lifted her gaze to stare into my eyes. "They're my part of Lester's wedding gift to us."

It took me a moment to remember that my crazy cousin had given us a matching set of his-and-hers edible underwear. Unbelievable! Although, on second thought, maybe Lester had gotten something right. There was no way that I'd have ever guessed my Babe would choose to wear such an item. I closed my eyes, threw back my head and laughed aloud.

"What's so funny now?" Steph demanded to know.

"You never disappoint, Babe," I answered and I closed in for a kiss.

At first, Steph resisted, but then she lowered her leg and pressed against me as we deepened the kiss. After closing the apartment door behind me with my foot, I swept my sexy Babe off of her feet and carried her into the bedroom. We didn't stop kissing, even when I laid her body in the middle of the bed. Instead, she dragged me on top of her and wouldn't let go of me.

"Stephanie … Babe … let me … get out of … these clothes … before I … burst," I murmured between kisses.

She nibbled my lower lip and firmly said, "No."

"No?" I repeated.

"That's what I said – _**no**_." Steph reached up with her uninjured hand and grabbed the collar of my shirt in her attempt to hold me close to her.

Now I was thoroughly confused. "Babe, what's going on? Is there something you want to tell me?"

"I already told you," she said. "You're in big trouble, mister. You showed up early and now you're gonna pay for inconveniencing me."

"What the-" I began, but Steph had caught me off-guard and twisted out from under me, still holding on to my collar, almost cutting off my air supply. Suddenly, I was lying on my back and she was dangling something over my face. She could see that I didn't understand what the object was, and yet a big smile spread across her face.

"You don't get to have _**me**_ until I get to have _**you**_," she stated. "Although I fixed a nice tray of antipasti as part of tonight's meal, I've decided that I want an appetizer _**before**_ the appetizer. And since it's quite obvious that you'd like some, too, I've also decided that _**this**_ will be your punishment. If you agree to play along, I'll let you up nice and easy."

Of course, we both knew that I was only humoring her and that I could have broken free from her grip at any time. Still, I was still confused, so I asked her, "What _**is**_ that thing?"

"It's _**your**_ half of Lester's gift," she replied with a wicked gleam in her eye. "I want you to put it on … so I can chew it off."

Dios mio! Was this _**my**_ Babe, the woman I had married? What kind of game was this that she was playing with me? And what about the doctor's orders not to pull any surprises on me in the bedroom? Well, who cared about that anyway? Not me! I decided to follow the doctor's other orders to keep my eyes open and enjoy my wife. I nodded my agreement and Steph let go of her choke-hold on my collar.

The buttons flew off of my shirt as I ripped it open and tossed it aside. The rest of my clothes quickly joined my shredded shirt on the floor and then I held up the funny little piece of what appeared to be "fruit vinyl" in the shape of a man's thong with strings to tie at the sides. Stephanie didn't even try to stifle her giggles and I almost threw the ridiculous thing across the room. When she wagged her index finger at me as a warning, I wanted to bite it off, but I knew she'd be disappointed if I didn't play along with her game now.

Once we both were clad only in the edible undies, I glared at Steph and asked, "Now what?"

"Lie down right here," she replied and she patted the space next to her on the bed. "I'll show you what." And, amateur therapist that she was, she certainly did.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

First of all, I have to admit that I married an awesome specimen of manhood. Secondly, edible underwear tastes awful. I had to stop after two nibbles. Never again will I let that horrible stuff pass through my lips. Yuck! Honestly, I was kind of glad when Ranger asked for a "rain-check" on my offer to bring him complete satisfaction while he laid there on the bed under me.

"I appreciate the gesture, Babe," he said. "But I think we need to go slowly with this amateur therapist gig. Rushing into things probably isn't the wisest course of action."

I agreed with him and he let my "fingers do the walking" instead of my tongue. As for the rest of our "therapeutic" love-making session, Ranger didn't like the taste of the edible undies, either, but he was a good sport. In fact, he cooperated with all my "punishments" for him. We soon discovered that everything was fine as long as the lights stayed on and I kept saying his name aloud so that Ranger knew it really was me with him and not that whack-job evil scientist who had messed up his life so long ago. Afterward, we took a long, steamy shower together and Ranger washed my hair for me. Then he re-bandaged my hand and wrapped his warm robe around me.

I could safely say that Ranger had trusted me with his life that night. At least, that is, in the comfort and safety of our bed. I guess I'll have to become better-acquainted with weapons before he'll trust me with his life _**outside**_ of the bedroom.

It's a good thing that the antipasto platter and the tossed salad stayed perfectly ready in the refrigerator until I served them, because we didn't get around to eating our dinner until much later than I originally had planned. Of course, Ranger ate most of the salad while I mostly ate the slices of meats and cheeses and olives off of the platter. We sipped wine while Ranger told me more stories from his time in the Army and he explained how he received the various missions from his current government employers. When I finally served the tiramisu, Ranger only ate one bite of the rich-tasting dessert before his extremely strong willpower kicked in. Naturally, I ended up eating what he'd left on his plate.

The candles burned down to practically nothing as we sat at the dinner table reminisced about our trip to Miami. After dinner, we cleared the dishes and placed them in the sink and put away the leftovers. Ranger complimented me on my work in the kitchen. He was amazed at the way I cleaned up the mess with only one good hand. When I confessed that I actually had soiled the first bandage he had placed on my hand, he acknowledged that he already knew that I had re-bandaged it.

"I always tuck the edges of the gauze a certain way," he explained. "And when you showed me your hand earlier, it was obvious that it wasn't my handiwork on display anymore."

"Remind me not to try to pull any April Fool's jokes on you in the future," I grumbled.

Ranger chuckled at my comment and he led me into the living room. He pointed the remote at his entertainment center and the sounds of soft, sensual jazz music wafted around us. We snuggled on the sofa for a while, quietly at first, and then we talked about what had happened in the bedroom earlier that evening. It was very cozy and felt extremely right.

"Babe, I want you to know that Bobby was on stand-by tonight, just in case anything … went wrong between us," Ranger admitted after we agreed that we could do some of the same things again, only _**without**_ the edible undies next time.

I nodded and said, "I know. He told me what he was doing." Oops! I thought and I wondered if Ranger caught my slip-up.

Ranger glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and said, "He told you, huh?" But he didn't pursue the matter any further. Nevertheless, I knew that he now knew that Bobby had been my "snitch" that evening.

I stretched and started to get up from the sofa. "I guess I'd better tackle the dishes now," I said. It was almost midnight and I really didn't feel like doing the dishes, but I also didn't want Ella to find a mess in the morning.

Ranger pulled me back down onto his lap and nuzzled my neck. "Don't worry about the dishes, Babe," he said. "I'll take care of them … later." And then we proceeded to discover how well the living room sofa accommodated our lovemaking.

When I woke up the next morning, I was back in our bed - alone. I couldn't remember how I got there, but I peeked under the covers and saw that I wasn't wearing anything, so I figured Ranger must have moved me after our "final round" on the sofa in the middle of the night. I smiled at the memory. It was very tempting for me to stay under the covers a while longer, but then I noticed the time on the bedside clock.

"Omigod!" I sat up and gasped, even though no one was around to hear me.

It was after ten o'clock! I launched myself out of bed and into the shower. What would people think? By "people" I meant the Merry Men, of course, and I already had a pretty good idea of what they would think. These were Ranger's men, and even though he had misled them into believing that we'd always had a physical relationship whenever I stayed on the seventh floor, now they _**really**_ knew what we were doing up here every night. I only hoped that the teasing wouldn't be too intense when I finally showed up at my cubicle.

"Hey, Beautiful!" Lester greeted me with a huge grin as I exited the elevator onto the fifth floor. Then he surprised me by grabbing my hands and playfully kissing my fingers. "I'm so glad you're here permanently. Other than giving me some bruised ribs, Ranger's been a completely different man since you two-"

"Santos!" We both jumped away from each other upon hearing Ranger's voice from down the hallway. "Stop molesting my wife! And don't give me any of that 'kissing cousin' crap, either. We might be related, but we're not _**that**_ close."

Lester winked at me and then he sprinted back down the hallway and into the control room. I gave Ranger a little finger wave, and quickly tried to follow Lester. Unfortunately, the Man of Mystery moved much faster and he caught me by my ponytail before I reached my desk.

"You're late," Ranger growled into my ear as he released my hair. He sounded relaxed so I didn't worry. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't dock your pay."

"It wasn't my fault," I said. "You didn't reset the alarm clock after you got up at oh-dark-thirty this morning."

He considered this for a moment and then he replied, "I didn't need to. You told me you were getting up right away when I returned from my workout. You even sat up in the bed and stared at me after I took my shower. It took all my willpower not to drag you back under the covers and have my way with you."

I blinked in disbelief. "I … I don't remember doing that."

Ranger gazed solemnly into my eyes and for a moment, I wondered if I was going a little crazy from all the good loving I'd received lately. Then I saw it. There was the tiniest twinkle in his dark eyes to go along with the slightest twitch of a smile on his full lips. Obviously, he was just having a little fun at my expense. Well, two could play that game.

I lifted my chin and declared, "I really needed that extra bit of sleep, you know. My brain needs to be fully recharged, because I'm going to try my hand at cooking _**Cuban**_ food for you tonight."

Seeing the unguarded look of alarm that flashed across Ranger's face was priceless. I didn't think it was possible, but he even looked a bit pale. I'd rarely witnessed my Batman displaying such a moment of dismay. But it was hearing the sounds of the Merry Men on duty sucking in air over my remark about cooking again that almost made me laugh.

"Babe," Ranger began after he regained his composure. "I think maybe you should give your injured hand a rest. Ella's perfectly capable of taking care of everything while you recover."

Then it was _**my**_ turn to try not to crack a smile. Thinking of something sad was a complete waste of time and I lost control over the corners of my mouth. I failed miserably in my attempt at keeping a straight face and, as my smile progressed into giggles, Ranger realized that I hadn't been serious about another round of kitchen follies. Before I knew it, he had pinned me to the side of my cubby and was whispering into my ear.

"Babe, if we're going to work together every day, we're going to have to set some ground rules," he said. "Teasing each other out in the open like this doesn't set the best example for my other employees."

"Hmph! _**You**_ started it," I murmured back at him defiantly.

He pulled his head back and looked at me through narrowed eyes. Then he grabbed my uninjured hand and pulled me out of the control room toward his office. I'm sure everyone had a pretty good idea of what probably would happen next. They were wrong. And I was somewhat disappointed.

Ranger released my hand as soon as he closed his office door and then sat down at his desk. He gestured for me to sit down in one of the visitor chairs on the opposite side of his desk. Then he pulled out a blank sheet of paper and began to write furiously.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Something I should have done a long time ago," he replied without looking up. "I'm creating a contract – a _**personal**_ contract – just between you and me to govern our behavior here in the workplace."

I considered the possible ramifications of such a document and asked, "With what kind of terms?"

"Generous," he said and then he slid the paper across the desk for me to read.

Ranger's handwriting was small and precise; block letters, all capitalized rose up from the paper and reassured me that my husband did not want there to be a climate of sexual "harassment" in the RangeMan offices. He wanted both of us to exhibit complete professionalism on the job and leave our private life up on the seventh floor or behind closed doors. In order to accomplish the 'closed doors' part, he had put into this impromptu contract that I would have my own separate office – away from curious or prying eyes – as soon as Louis Guzman could hire a contractor to carve out the space for it. I was astonished, to say the least.

"Don't you think this is a bit of … overkill?" I asked as I glanced up from the paper.

He shook his head and said, "No, Babe. In fact, I've been thinking about giving you your own private office in all of our buildings ever since Miami. You're one of my business partners now. It's only fair."

"Will my offices have sofas and sound-proof walls?" I asked playfully.

"Babe," he said as he smiled and his eyes darkened.

Before I left his office, I promised Ranger that I would let Ella do all the cooking and cleaning, like she was accustomed to doing, and I dutifully stayed out of her way for the rest of the week. The burn on my hand healed up nicely and Ella even began to invite me into her kitchen to watch as she made certain dishes. It was fun learning how she cooked so effortlessly, but I was a long way from becoming Ella's apprentice. We all knew my limitations and I was happy to live within them.

The work week actually flew by in a blur. First, I made good on my promise to Connie to get more RangeMan support for Vinnie's over-burdened office. Ranger wasn't available so he sent Hal and Brett out to round up four high-bond skips, but I chose to work on only two of the lower-bond cases myself. I tagged Boogie Beradino, one of the Burg's many habitual flashers, when he came out of the Laundromat carrying and armload of clean clothes. Luis Queen –a male hooker and one of my perennial favorite FTAs - had been an easy catch, too, because he always worked from the same corner. It was a good day's work for me, especially since I didn't roll in trash at all.

I immediately cashed my bond checks and used the money to upgrade the television cable contract in my old apartment so that Grandma Mazur would be able to watch the so-called "premium" channels when she moved in. I had been making little improvements all week long and I was quite pleased with my handiwork. Ranger just shook his head at my insistence on paying for certain things with money I earned on my own.

At the end of each workday, Ranger gave me a thirty-minute head start to go up to the apartment so that I could shower and change into something sexy before he came upstairs. Usually, I'd put on a slinky satin nightgown or just wear his robe and meet him at the door. Sometimes Ranger made it into the shower before our pre-dinner nookie sessions, but not always. We began referring to these times as our "prescription-strength" doses of amateur therapy and we always kept the lights on while we tried new things. Even though Ranger maintained his status as a perfect patient, we both knew that we still needed the professional counseling. Despite our best efforts, there was no way around it, so I guessed we would be spending the winter in Tampa after all. That happy thought definitely put on smile on my face.

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**A/N: I'm glad that so many of you have checked out the photo "illustrations" I've put together for this story. Everyone has his or her own mental picture of what the main characters in any book look like. I realize that the makers of the upcoming OFTM movie have cast their choices, but actors Amanda Peet, Oded Fehr, and Bobby Cannavale are my "muses" for Stephanie, Ranger and Joe. In my imagination, most of the other characters, such as Frank and Helen Plum and Tank, resemble people from my own life, so I don't have photos of them that I can share with you. Anyway, I'll let you know when I post updates to the albums. As always, I look forward to your feedback. Thanks! **


	33. Chapter 33

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. **

**A/N: Yay! My kids went back to school this week! The neighborhood pool is now closed until next Memorial Day and I've been able to stay home and type to my heart's delight. Double yay! Thanks again for your patience with me. When I first wrote the outline for this story, I had hoped to finish it during the holiday season. (Ha! Ha! Shame on me for thinking that!) Of course, I'm waaaay past my personal deadline, but that's how my life goes! There's never a dull moment. This long chapter is crammed full of action and multiple POVs and I've updated the photo albums, too. Enjoy!**

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_Every year I chased after the perfect Christmas and every year Christmas barely happened. My Christmases were always a mess of badly wrapped last-minute presents, a chunk of fruitcake sent home in a doggy bag from my parents' house, and for the last couple of years I haven't had a tree. I just couldn't seem to __**get to**__ Christmas._

_Visions of Sugar Plums_

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**Chapter 33: Holiday Helpers**

**Ranger's POV**

Monday was supposed to be another normal workday, but Tank and Stephanie and I had spent long hours in the conference room over the weekend, pouring over every case file and client folder we possessed, so I let my Babe sleep in again. Stephanie's parents had visited us at the apartment on Sunday afternoon, but we went back to work as soon as they left. There was a lot of information to process all at once and I knew that my Babe was exhausted. Truthfully, though, I really needed Steph to become familiar with everything at our New Jersey office so that she'd feel comfortable when we sat down and did the same thing at the other RangeMan offices, especially now that she was a legal business partner.

After my workout, I showered and dressed in a suit for an early business meeting. Then I made a fresh pot of coffee and ate some yogurt and granola for my own morning meal; however, I decided to call down to Ella's apartment to request something special for my Babe. Ella was delighted to bring up a special breakfast, and when she arrived at my door, she smiled her approval at me as she handed over the well-stocked tray. My loyal housekeeper even winked at me before she turned and left the apartment. Thank God she wasn't angry after Stephanie's recent attempt at cooking for me!

Ever since Ella began washing my laundry, I've had very few personal secrets from her. It's a good thing she always wholeheartedly supported my relationship with Stephanie. It was also a good thing that Steph had put aside her Burg upbringing and allowed Ella to do what Ella did best. Both of us knew that some things were better left to those who actually knew what they were doing.

It took only a few minutes of fanning the steam from the hot coffee toward the bed before Stephanie began to stir. I smiled because I knew that the aroma of this special food would entice her out of her slumber and into complete wakefulness. Although I had watched my Babe waking from her sleep a thousand times, the sight of her opening her beautiful blue eyes and smiling at me always took my breath away. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she loved me so completely and that she would belong only to me forever.

"Mmm," Steph said after a big stretch and a jaw-cracking yawn. "What's that delicious smell?"

I grinned and replied, "Breakfast, Babe. Rise and shine!"

Of course, I already knew that I had the most gorgeous wife in the whole world; however, the bright smile she gave me in return caused my heart to do a little flip and made my dressy slacks a bit uncomfortable. "_Down, boy_!" I silently warned myself as I rose from the chair and lifted the tray of food to present to Stephanie. She sat up in the bed, grabbed a few of the spare pillows, and placed them behind her back so that I could settle the tray across her lap. Before I allowed her to dig in, I gently tucked the corner of one of the linen napkins into the collar of her new pink pajamas and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. Then I sat back down to watch my Babe eat.

"Yum! This is so good!" Steph exclaimed. "I can taste the cheese in this omelet, but what are these green thingies in it?"

Unable to suppress my smile, I replied, "Spinach."

"No way!" She shook her head and her fork paused in mid-air. "You know I _**hate**_ spinach! This _**can't**_ be a spinach omelet; it tastes too good."

"Ella will be pleased to know of her triumph," I said and continued to stare in amazement as my vegetable-hating wife devoured her meal – even the buttered whole-grain toast and slices of melon. She drank her coffee and finished every last drop of the freshly-squeezed orange juice, too. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought that Stephanie hadn't eaten in a week.

"What?" Steph said when she glanced up and noticed that I was grinning at her.

"Nothing," I lied.

"You're lying," she accused. "What is it? Why are you looking at me that way? Do I have spinach stuck between my teeth? See? This is why I never eat the stuff." Then she parted her lips so that I could get a better look at her teeth.

"No," I assured her. "There's no spinach in your teeth."

"Then what is it, Carlos?" she gently insisted.

I grinned wider and said, "I love you, Babe. That's all."

Steph's gaze toward me intensified. Then she lifted the tray off of her lap and set it down on the floor next to the bed. My heart began to beat faster when she swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over to me. I loved the way my Babe's silky pajamas hugged her curves and I was so glad Ella had ordered a replacement set for the pair I had ruined in Miami. We didn't break eye contact as Steph straddled onto my lap and settled herself there.

"Carlos," Steph said in her seductive voice as her fingers smoothed the lapels of my suit jacket. "I think it was very sneaky of you and Ella to make yucky spinach taste so good. I can't do anything about Ella's participation, but I think you _**owe**_ me something now for tricking me like that."

Remembering Steph's comment from when she met Dr. O'Neill, I grinned back at her and said, "The only thing I can think of that I owe you is a _**spanking**_. But what else did _**you**_ have in mind?" I had a pretty good idea what else she had in mind and my body practically hummed in anticipation. Unfortunately, I also knew we didn't have time to indulge in any sexual activities at that moment.

"Not a spanking," Steph replied as she wiggled on my lap and leaned in for a kiss. Dios! Her body beneath the satiny fabric felt so good in my hands. She caught my bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucked on it before she released it. "I want you to tell me something, Carlos," she whispered into my ear as she nibbled on my earlobe. A thrilling shiver went down my spine and she asked, "Where are we going for our honeymoon?"

I groaned. Steph was killing me with her sexy pajamas and her seductive moves, but I had to stay strong. Ever since I had mentioned that we would leave after Tank and Lula returned from their honeymoon, my Babe had been pressuring me for information about _**our**_ official honeymoon. The main problem for Steph was that I refused to give her any of the details about our destination. I wanted it to be a complete surprise.

Tank and Lula's wedding by the Justice of the Peace was scheduled to occur on the first day of December and they'd be gone for two weeks to a resort in the Poconos. Then Steph and I would go away for two weeks and return to New Jersey in time for Christmas. As usual, Tank would take charge of the Trenton office while I was gone. He would remain in charge after the New Year when Steph and I headed down to Florida. It fact, we were scheduled to meet with one of our lawyers this morning to discuss the ramifications of a more permanent transfer of control of RangeMan of Trenton to Tank.

"No time to explain it all right now, Babe," I said, shaking my head. I placed my hands on both sides of her waist and gently removed her from my lap so that we were standing face to face. "As much as it pains me to leave you like this, Tank and I have a meeting with the lawyer I told you about in five minutes. Besides that, Ella will be here any minute. I already asked her to come back up with some fresh coffee so that the two of you can discuss holiday plans."

"Holiday plans?" Steph said, seemingly confused. It was as though she had forgotten that this was the fourth week of November and we were headed into the most dreaded time of the year for both of us.

"Yes," I said slowly and carefully. "Thanksgiving is this Thursday, Babe, and after that, we'll have a month until-" But I didn't get to finish that sentence.

"Omigod!" Steph exclaimed and the color drained from her beautiful face. "Thanksgiving is _**this**_ week? I mean, I knew it was this week but I didn't realize that this week was _**this**_ week! All I've been thinking about is our honeymoon and I forgot that we have to get through Thanksgiving and Lula and Tank's wedding first!" Then she began to hyperventilate.

"Breathe, Babe," I reminded her and I knew then that I was going to be late for my meeting.

"Grandma Mazur will be back … _**tonight**_!" Steph said excitedly. "And … omigod! We haven't even decided where we'll spend Thanksgiving yet… and then … _**Christmas**_! What about all the cards and presents for your family_** and**_ my family? Omigod, there are a thousand people in your family! _**Omigod**_! And all the Merry Men, too! I'm not ready for this!"

"Calm down, Babe," I said as I gathered her into my arms and we stood in the open doorway. "Take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Yes, that's good." Steph nodded and I forced her to breathe with me until she got herself back under control.

Then I tilted her chin up and said, "For your information, I don't send out Christmas cards. I never have and, unless you can give me a very good reason, I don't plan on starting now."

Steph's face looked pained and she said, "But it's a tradition! And this year I thought we could send out a combination Christmas card and wedding announcement. There are these photo frame cards and we could put in one of the nicer pictures from the day we got married. We _**have**_ to send out Christmas cards!"

"You're kidding," I said.

"No, Carlos, I'm not!" she insisted. "Civilized people send cards. _**Married**_ people especially send out Christmas cards."

I shook my head in disbelief and sighed. "Well, Ella can certainly help you with all of that, because I'm not convinced about following any traditions around here. And remember, Babe, we're not spending Thanksgiving or Christmas at either of our parents' houses, because we'll be working on those days."

During the weekend, I had explained to Stephanie that Tank and I and a "skeleton" crew usually worked on Thanksgiving and Christmas so that more of our employees could have the time off. We had started the practice back when we were still in the Army, and we continued it as we built up our business. We wanted as many as possible of our men to spend the holidays with their families, especially if they lived nearby. It wasn't that we didn't love our families, too, but we were happy to make the sacrifice. To her credit, my Babe hadn't complained about the schedule, but now it seemed to be a bit overwhelming.

Sighing inwardly, I knew it was only a matter of time before Stephanie's mother whined to her about our absence at her dinner table. We had dined at the Plum's house only once since our return and I liked it that way. Steph and I had invited Frank and Helen over to the apartment for the previous day's Sunday brunch, which Ella had expertly prepared. The Plums were genuinely impressed with their daughter's new home and I knew I had scored big with Steph's dad when we watched a football game on my big-screen TV after the meal.

Nevertheless, Stephanie's parents didn't seem very happy when we broke the news to them about our holiday plans. Although they thought it was noble that we wanted to give our employees the time off, they expressed their disappointment in an honest and open manner. I stopped Steph before she could tell them about our plans for staying in Florida for a few months after the holiday season was over. Her parents had had enough "bad" news for one day and we sent them back to Burg while they still had smiles on their faces.

Actually, I thought it was a good thing that Stephanie and I would be far away from Trenton so much during this beginning phase of our married life. People needed to establish their own routines without including us in their plans. And I refused to be roped into spending Friday nights in the Burg; those family dinners had been Joe Morelli's gig, but I had no intention of us becoming regulars at the Plum table. Luckily for me, Ella's cooking more than made up for the breaking of my Babe's traditions.

My quiet thoughts fizzled away as Stephanie slumped against me and she whimpered, "Why me?"

I kissed the top of her head and said, "Why _**not**_ you? You've got Ella as your main holiday helper. She'll do anything to assist you with all the cards and presents this year. She loves that stuff and she always does a great job. And Babe, for the rest our lives, it really doesn't matter to me where we spend any of the holidays, as long as I can spend them with you. You just need to focus on the here and now."

"The here and now?" she asked and she glared up at me. "Are you insane? Do you have any idea of all the things we have to get done between now and Christmas? I've _**never**_ been able to do it all! I don't think it's possible for me to do it all. I don't even think I'll survive!"

"You're still alive, so it looks like you survived _**last**_ year," I reminded her.

"Hmph! Only because Diesel pulled me through," she grumbled.

I scowled at the mention of the so-called unmentionable's name. Then I said, "You've got _**me**_ this year, Babe, and I'm _**much**_ better than him."

"Yeah," she replied skeptically. "But Diesel knows Santa – the _**real**_ one - personally."

"Stephanie," I sighed. "Everything's gonna be alright. I promise." Then I glanced down at my watch and swore under my breath. "I'm officially late for my meeting now. And just so that you know, since this _**is**_ your fault, you're gonna get spanked tonight." And I meant it.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

I held myself together until Ranger's fine-looking derriere was out of the apartment door and into the elevator. I loved it when he dressed up as "Corporate Ranger" in a suit and tie. Of course, if he thought that he was actually going to be able to spank me that evening, he was in for a big surprise. I smiled inwardly at my escape and evasion plan. Then I stepped into the shower and completely freaked out.

The realization that everything was coming at me too fast nearly sent me back into a full-fledged panic attack again. I stood motionless under the shower spray, paralyzed by thoughts and fears of disappointing not only my own family, but also Ranger's large family. Deciding that I should get dressed before Ella arrived, I turned off the water, quickly dried off, and blasted my hair with the blow dryer. Then I put on a black sweater top and my black stretchy pants. At the very least, I figured that I should look somewhat like a member of the RangeMan organization whenever I finally got to my desk.

"Rex!" I called out as I hurried into the kitchen with the breakfast tray full of my dirty dishes. "How can it be the week of Thanksgiving already? Someone is supposed to remind me about these things!"

Rex the Wonder Hamster peeked out of his soup can and twitched his whiskers at me. Then he scrambled after the piece of leftover melon that I had dropped into his cage. Once he finished stuffing it into his mouth, I imagined him reminding me of the fact that I'd never dealt with the holidays in a timely manner before, so why start now? Thus reassured, I nodded and watched his furry little behind disappear back into the cedar shavings in his cage.

Then I went in search of my purse so that I could make some phone calls. Naturally, when I dug out my cell phone, it was dead. Ranger had a high-tech charging station for all of his electronics in the apartment's office, so I took the phone there and plugged it in. Then I heard the sound of someone knocking on the door and I figured that Ella would just let herself in. When she didn't, I hurried back to the foyer to let her into the apartment.

"Good morning, Stephanie! I trust that you've been sleeping well since you've settled in." Ella greeted me with a big smile and another tray containing two mugs of coffee, a container of cream, a bowl of sugar, and two Boston crème donuts. Did I mention that I adored Ella?

"Yes, Ella, I feel very well-rested and very well-fed, thanks to you," I said. "Your cooking really impressed my parents yesterday and this morning's breakfast was fabulous! I still can't believe you fed me spinach – _**and**_ that I actually liked it! Come in, please." I ushered her into the kitchen that she probably knew better than I ever would.

"That was a new recipe I made for the first time this morning, so I'm glad you liked it," Ella informed me. "Of course, Ranger has said that you really don't like vegetables all that much, but it doesn't hurt to try new things."

I nodded. "It's true; I've never liked spinach, but I don't think I ever had spinach the way _**you**_ fixed it. My mother always cooked it down to within an inch of its existence and then she smothered it with a creamy sauce to get me and my sister to eat the stuff. I'd hide it in my mouth and then spit it out in the bathroom."

Ella laughed and nodded. "My sons used to try that trick with broccoli, too, but I always caught them. Then it was no dessert for them for the rest of the week."

I grimaced at the thought of no dessert and then asked, "How many sons do you have, Ella?"

"Two of my own," she replied. "But I helped to raise my sister's three boys when she became ill with leukemia."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Is everything alright now?"

Ella was quiet for a moment and then she said, "My sister passed away several years ago, and all the boys are grown and married now with families of their own. That's why I like working here. The men who work for Ranger are all good men, no matter what some of their past troubles might have been. They're just like my own boys; Louis and I care very deeply for all of them."

"And they all really love you, too, Ella," I told her. "I'm glad I … well, I'm glad to be a member of the family now."

"I'm very happy that Ranger stopped wasting so much precious time and finally married you, Stephanie," she said and then she handed the plate of donuts to me. "It's so nice to have another woman in this house full of men. Well, what would you like to do first?"

First, I bit into the fresh pastry. Then I took a sip of the brew and closed my eyes in ecstasy. Ella had made the perfect cup of coffee with just the right amount of cream and sugar for my tastes. Everything Saint Ella touched came out perfectly and, once again, I was extremely grateful that she was part of the "package deal" when I married Ranger. When I opened my eyes, she was smiling up at me with amused delight.

Embarrassed, I blurted out, "Oh … um, Ranger said you might be able to help me get through the holidays. I mean, I'm usually such a mess that I hardly ever send out my Christmas cards on time – that is, if I send them out at all. My mother always sends her cards out on the day after Thanksgiving, but I really think that's too early, don't you? And presents are a monumental challenge for me. I never know what to give anyone! By the time I actually get around to going shopping, the shelves have been picked bare and I usually give crappy gifts. It's horrible!" Then I realized that I was babbling and I shut my mouth.

Ella smiled and nodded sagely. "I think I know how to help you, Stephanie. We just have to pace ourselves and everything will get done on time. So, let's get started."

Two hours later, Ella left the apartment with a list of the names of all the people I could think of for whom I would need to either buy gifts or send cards or do both. I had given her a few suggestions based on gifts that had seemed to go over well in the past. I also told her that I had no idea about possible gifts for any of the Mañosos and she assured me that she already knew what to do about that situation. We even set a few dates to go shopping together. For once in my life I actually felt like I had a chance of experiencing a successful holiday season.

After Ella left, I wondered if Ranger had finished with the lawyer yet. I _**really**_ wanted to know where he planned to take us for our honeymoon. The suspense was killing me and I began to get anxious. Part of me hoped we would be going back to Florida, but I wouldn't mind going to some other warm, sunny place – like the Bahamas or even Mexico. My best friend from the Burg, Mary Lou, had gone to Cancun for her honeymoon and she said it was fabulous. Not wanting to wait any longer, I decided to go downstairs and snoop around for some answers. Spanking or no spanking, I just had to know where Ranger was planning to take me.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

"Beautiful Bombshell alert," Lester's voice quietly crackled into my earpiece. "She don't look happy, either, coz. You know she's been lurking in the control room all morning, trying to act all casual while she asks a bunch of questions about your favorite places. Nobody would give her any useful info, so now I think she's trying to sneak into your office before you return to it. Looks like she's on a fact-finding mission."

I would have thought that my beautiful Babe had learned her lesson after I caught her snooping in the hallway during Dr. O'Neill's visit. Oh well, I guess not. Grinning, I softly replied into my mouthpiece, "Hooah." (_Translation: I know which facts she's after._)

"Want me to throw her off the trail?" he asked. We were having fun; testing out some new surveillance equipment that Gonzo had sent us. I liked the small size of the gadgets, but I wasn't too impressed with the voice quality.

"No," I said, "But you can come here to the conference room and help me with a little deception plan."

"Hooah!" Lester replied. (_Translation: Oh, yeah! Sounds like fun!_)

I could hear the smile in my cousin's voice as he sauntered down the hallway. He was hamming it up already by loudly complaining about having to take care of so many personal arrangements for me and on such short notice and so on. When he showed up at the conference room a few seconds later, I could see that Lester was in the right kind of mischievous mood to help me. He lingered in the hall until he saw Stephanie peek out of the doorway and then quickly pull her head back. I beckoned for him to come all the way inside the conference room, but to leave the door open slightly more than a crack.

"Is everything all set?" I asked Lester as I removed the earpiece and mouthpiece from my head.

"Oh, sure," Lester replied. "Your Uncle Diego's place down at Point Pleasant is ready for you. The staff is very excited to meet your new bride. I still can't believe you're taking Stephanie there for your 'official' honeymoon, though."

"I know, I know," I said tiredly. "But when my uncle called and offered up his condo, I just couldn't refuse. You know how it is with family."

"Yeah, especially those _**Súarez**_ relatives of yours," he said. "They're so damn pushy!"

I glared at Lester, but he merely smiled sweetly back at me as I said, "Point Pleasant certainly wasn't my first choice of a honeymoon spot, but I know the name has a special meaning for Stephanie. She's always loved Point Pleasant, so everything should be okay once we get there."

"Okay?" Lester said in a surprised tone. "How can say that Point Pleasant is just _**okay**_? I love that place! Maybe, if things work out between me and Sheila, you could put in a good word for me and your uncle will let us have our honeymoon there, too."

I stared at my cousin and asked, "Are you and Sheila becoming that serious?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Could be. This is the first time in my life that I don't feel like asking anyone else out. You know me; I've always got a string of at least two or three ladies, but Sheila's the only one I feel like being with right now."

I whistled a low note. "That sounds serious to me."

He just flashed me a lewd grin, waggled his eyebrows at me and changed the subject. "So, what are you and Stephanie going to do at the beach for two whole weeks?"

"Hmm … I'm not sure. November's not exactly the high season, you know." I played along, stroking the hairs on my chin. On the computer monitor in the conference room, I could see the hallway camera's image of Stephanie flattening herself against the wall and straining to hear our conversation. It was difficult not to burst out laughing.

Lester winked at me and said, "Dude, you'll be on your _**honeymoon**_. Who cares if it's high season? You and your beautiful bombshell of a wife probably won't even notice what's going on outside of your bedroom. But you'd better enjoy it, because your two weeks at the Point Pleasant Resort will pass by before you know and then you'll be back here shivering with the rest of us."

I feigned offense and said, "Me, shivering? I don't think so. I'm gonna stay nice and toasty all winter long, especially now that I have my own personal hand-warmer."

"Hand-warmer?" Lester shook his head in disgust. "I can think of better body parts I'd want her to keep wa-"

"Stop!" I warned. "I don't need to hear any of your suggestions. The hand-warmer remark was just a figure of speech."

"Well, with a figure like hers, I'd be speechless – warm hands or not," he quipped.

"Get. Out!" I ordered and I pointed toward the door. "And don't say another word."

Lester pretended to look hurt and headed for the conference room door. He turned and glanced over his shoulder to fire off his parting shot, "See if I ever help you make honeymoon arrangements again."

I just smiled and shook my head. We had accomplished our mission of deception. On the computer monitor, I watched my Babe as she hurried back into her office area before Lester emerged from the conference room. I had seen her facial expression and she didn't seem to be very happy about what she had just overheard. Oh well, she'd soon learn her lesson. When I say I want something to be a surprise, I mean for it to be a surprise.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

_Point Pleasant?_ I thought. Was Ranger serious? I mean, everyone knows how much I like to go out to Point Pleasant, but how could Ranger plan for our whole honeymoon to take place there? The Jersey Shore in November was _**not**_ warm and sunny. Ranger _**knew**_ I wanted to go someplace where I could lay out on the beach and worship the sun. That's one of the main reasons I tagged along with him to Miami in the first place.

Blinking back tears of bitter disappointment, I tried to look on the bright side of this new development. Apparently, Ranger's Uncle Diego had offered us his beach condo for our honeymoon. That was a very kind gesture, and from the sound of Lester's tone of voice, the condo must be pretty nice with a full staff and everything. Still, I wondered what we would do for two weeks on a cold New Jersey beach. Then my face blushed as I realized that, knowing Ranger, he probably didn't plan for us to go outside much, anyway. My little "pity party" subsided a little when I began to think of all the ways Ranger and I could have fun while we stayed indoors.

"Penny for your thoughts," a voice interrupted my daydreams and I wished that I had a private office at that moment. It was Vince and he was leaning against the side opening of my cubicle, grinning at me.

"Oh, hi," I said and I smiled up at him. "You look happy. Things must be going well between you and Connie, huh?"

His grin grew wider and he nodded his head. "This weekend, I took her down to Cape May to meet my folks and they absolutely loved her. I've met Connie's parents, and I think they like me, too, but I'm a little nervous about meeting everybody else after Thanksgiving. One of her cousins is getting married on that Saturday, and I'm going to go with her as her date."

"Just be yourself, Vince," I tried to be reassuring. "Everything will turn out fine."

He nodded again and dropped his voice down to a whisper. "Don't tell her, but if Connie catches the bridal bouquet – like she's vowed to do – I'm gonna pop the question right then and there."

"Vince! That's so sweet!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know you were such a romantic guy."

He suddenly looked bashful and said, "Yeah, well, until Dr. O'Neill helped out those of us who had the, you know, _**problem**_, there really wasn't much point to starting up anything serious with someone."

"Well, I'm glad things are working out for you now," I said. "And just for the record, I think Connie would have gone out with you a long time ago if you had bothered to ask her. She wouldn't have cared about the whole fertility thing. Believe me, not every woman is eager to have babies. I know I'm not even close to being ready to become a mother."

Vince stared at me as though I had just sprouted a second head. "But, Stephanie, babies are all my brothers' wives gab about. On the occasions when everyone gathers at my parents' house, my sisters-in-law are always talking about calendars and due dates and baby this and baby that. I'm the godfather to two of my nieces and two of my nephews already. I thought all of you ladies had the maternal urge."

I shook my head. "Nope! Not all of us."

He lowered his voice again and asked, "Does Ranger know about this? I mean, that you don't want kids right now?"

"Yep," I nodded. "We've discussed it."

He shrugged and looked at me in amazement. "Wow! I guess it's possible to learn something new every day - even if it's something you didn't think you didn't know." Then he wandered back over to the bank of monitors.

I returned my attention to the stack of search requests in my in-box and worked diligently until lunch time. Then I followed Vince and Lester into the kitchen and we all chose sandwiches, fruit and drinks. It had turned into a typical workday and even though I knew I'd have a few months of time down in Florida, I wondered if this was the way my work life at RangeMan always would be.

"Why so sad, Beautiful?" Lester asked. "Has the boss-man been giving you grief about being so late this morning?"

"No, it's nothing like that," I replied. "I was just thinking about … stuff."

Vince cut his eyes toward me suspiciously. I could tell that he was wondering if my pensive mood was connected to our earlier conversation. Not wanting to resume the discussion about babies, I mumbled a lame excuse about needing to go upstairs and make some personal phone calls during the rest of my lunch break. Thankfully, neither man tried to stop me.

It was obvious that Ella had been back in the apartment after I had gone downstairs to work. The kitchen was spotless, there was a vase of fresh flowers on the sideboard, and nothing was out of place. Once again, I was grateful for the tiny woman's presence in my life and I wondered what would happen when Ranger and I went to Florida. Would there be someone like Ella or Rosie for us down in Tampa? If not, I probably was headed for big trouble.

Sighing, I went into the apartment's office and retrieved my now fully-charged cell phone. Then I called my parents. Ella had helped me to get my old apartment ready for Grandma Mazur's return, which was a good thing – from my perspective, anyway. My father was extremely excited that Grandma would be out of his house again, but my mother still didn't like the idea of her widowed mother living all by herself at her age.

"You know how she is. She's going to get into all kinds of mischief!" my mother had wailed when I first broke the news to my parents about my plans for my old apartment.

"Not my problem anymore," my dad had mumbled happily from behind his newspaper.

When my mother answered my call on the second ring, I could tell that something was wrong. "Stephanie! Thank God it's you!" she exclaimed, sounding more agitated than usual. "I just got off the phone with your grandmother and-"

"Omigod! What happened? Is she okay?" I frantically interrupted.

I dropped my phone when my mother screeched, "Your grandmother has eloped!"

Fumbling with my phone, I finally got it back up to my ear and asked, "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," my mother's voice sounded tight and angry. "She eloped! Your grandmother went to the Justice of the Peace in Coral Gables and married some strange man she's only known for two weeks! She just called to let me know that she wasn't going to make it here for Thanksgiving because she and her new husband were on their way to Disneyland - for their _**honeymoon**_!"

"Grandma Mazur … eloped?" I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. "Did she marry the man who's friends with her friends who use to live here in Trenton?"

"Yes, that's what she said. Esther and Milton Nowicki were their witnesses! Do you know this man - this Bruno Zelnich?" demanded my mother. "Do you know _**anything**_ about him, other than the fact that he owns a big house in Coral Gables and, as your grandmother stated so eloquently, 'he's got a great package that still works and everything'?"

"Uh … no, Mom, I actually never met him," I admitted regretfully. "Grandma only told me about him when she surprised me at the courthouse in Miami Beach and witnessed my marriage to Carlos."

"Carlos!" she practically spat his name. "This is _**his**_ fault. This is _**your**_ fault, too, Stephanie!"

I gasped. "_**My**_ fault? How can this be my fault?"

"If you and that meddlesome boss of yours hadn't eloped," she explained, "I'm sure that your grandmother never would have thought of it as a possibility for her, too. When word of this latest…_**situation**_ gets out, I'll never be able to show my face anywhere ever again. Omigod! I'll have to move to Arizona."

Thinking about all the work that Ella and I had done to get my old apartment ready for Grandma Mazur, I blew out a heavy sigh. "Mom, I'm sure it's not as bad as you're making it sound. Maybe there will be a little of flurry of gossip, but I'll bet that Grandma Mazur will make it up here for Christmas. She can't stay in Florida forever. You know Grandma; she'll want everyone to meet her new husband - and, of course, all the rest of her stuff is here in Trenton. Besides, Mom, you're her only child and _**you're**_ here. She'll definitely want to come back and see you – and Daddy and Valerie and me."

"This is a disaster!" My mother groaned, "Why me? Everything was fine this morning when I woke up and now it's all gone wrong! How did this happen? What have done to deserve this?"

"Mom, what else is wrong?" I asked, suddenly afraid of the answer.

"How can you ask me that?" she hissed. "I've had nothing but trouble ever since you and your husband told me that you'd both be working on Thanksgiving and Christmas. _**You**_ started this!"

"Who, me?" Okay, so maybe she had a point. It had seemed a bit abrupt and rude to announce to her that we wouldn't be there for two of the most important dinners of the year. Obviously, Ranger's parents were accustomed to his absences, but my parents – my mother in particular – still expected me and Valerie to show up at their table at least once a week. She hinted at it all the time.

"Yes, you!" my mother groused. "And now your sister has told me that she and Albert are going to have Thanksgiving dinner with _**his**_ mother, instead of coming here."

Uh-oh. This was bad. "When did Valerie tell you this?" I asked.

My mother sniffed and I could tell that she was trying very hard not to cry. "Valerie called last night, after your father and I returned from your new place, which, by the way, is very lovely." I could tell she had been tippling, too.

"Uh, thanks, Mom," I said. "I'll pass that on to Ella. You know she's really responsible for everything running so smoothly over here."

She continued, "I'm so glad you finally have a nice, safe place to live, but you know I'm not too crazy about your grandmother moving into your old apartment. I guess that won't matter now since she's married, too." And then she sniffled again.

Oh boy! This _**really**_ wasn't good. Before I could stop myself, I asked, "Do you know the rest of Valerie and Albert's plans for the holidays?"

"Oh!" my mother exclaimed angrily. "Albert's mother has insisted that they come to _**her**_ house this Thanksgiving and she won't take no for an answer. She told them that they can celebrate Christmas Day with us instead, but they also have to have dinner with her on Christmas Eve first. It has something to do with a Chanukah tradition. I tell you, that woman is being very demanding this year."

"That sounds … reasonable," I said cautiously. "Albert's family _**is**_ Jewish, Mom, so Christmas doesn't really figure into the whole division of family holiday time. Think of it this way: your Thanksgiving will be much quieter than last year – you and Daddy can have an intimate dinner for two."

"Hah!" scoffed my mother and I heard the unmistakable sound of her pouring liquid into a glass. Uh-oh. She was still tippling – a lot.

This was hopeless, I thought. Out loud, I said, "Mom, you need to calm down. Where's Daddy?"

It sounded like my mother muttered a string of very bad words and then she told me, "Your father just left in his cab to pick us one of his regulars, but I'm certain that he'll be spending the rest of the day at that infernal lodge of his. Frank doesn't know it, but I saw the big, stupid grin plastered across his face when he heard all the news. I think he's happy that Valerie and her family won't be here for Thanksgiving. I _**know**_ he's happy that my mother might not ever come home. He's being such a … a _**turd**_!"

It was easy to imagine the morning – and mourning - scene in my parents' kitchen after Grandma Mazur's shocking phone call. Dad certainly hadn't been hiding his glee over my grandma moving out of his house soon. That, on top of Valerie's bad news the previous evening, had to be the reason for my mother "hitting the bottle" so early in the day. Hopefully, my father would answer my page to him so that I could get his side of the story and inform him of Mom's bad state.

I took a deep breath and said, "Listen, Mom, I'm very sorry about your plans for Thanksgiving falling apart, but I don't want you to worry about Grandma Mazur. Carlos and I have friends in Miami who are as good as detectives. I promise we'll find out everything we can about Mr. Zelnich and let you know as soon as possible. Just … try to be happy for Grandma, okay?"

"Why, oh why couldn't any one of you fall in love and get married the normal way?" my mother wailed. "First it was you and your travesty of a first marriage; then it was Valerie's horrible divorce and remarriage to that … that man-child, Albert; then it was you _**again**_, abandoning poor Joseph for that mysterious Ranger/Carlos person; and now my mother has eloped with a total stranger! Why me?"

I had to stifle another sigh before I said, "Mom, I have to get back to work now. I'm very sorry about your holiday plans, but I'm sure that everything will turn out better than you think." I quickly disconnected before she could continue reciting her litany of disappointments.

Then I sat on the sofa for a moment and tried to absorb everything my mother had told me. It sounded like Grandma Mazur actually had found true love again - and then she married that old coot down in Florida. I definitely planned to follow through on my promise to get information about Grandma's new husband, but I had a feeling that he would check out just fine. My real worry was that once Mr. Bruno Zelnich found out about his new wife's family, he'd want to run as far away from us as possible.

Later that night, Ranger fulfilled his promise to spank my bottom for making him so late to his morning meeting. I made him work for it, though. First he had to chase me around the apartment, and then he had to remove the small toasting pan that I had crammed down the back of my pants for protection. He got a good laugh out of that before he spanked me, but, as I had thought, it really wasn't all that bad. Of course, after it was all done, Ranger insisted on kissing the tender places where I hurt, and the phrase "kiss my ass" took on a whole new meaning for us.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

The days right before Thanksgiving were a bit tense. Stephanie alternated between feeling guilty about abandoning her parents for the holidays, worrying about her grandmother, frenzied card-writing with Ella and sullen moping around the apartment, silently bemoaning what she thought was our honeymoon destination. Of course, Steph couldn't confront me about going to Point Pleasant, especially because she wasn't supposed to know about it.

I know that I wasn't exactly a joy to be around either. Dr. O'Neill had called to inform me that there weren't any viable sperm in the samples he had taken back to his lab. Despite all my healthy eating, intense physical training, and my new regimen of regular sexual activity, my body still wasn't able to father another child. Although I was happy for the men who had served in the Army with me on that ill-fated mission, all of whom were now back to normal, I indulged in a little "pity party" of my own for a few days.

Thankfully, Stephanie was so busy with her own tasks that she didn't question me about my sorry attitude. As she had promised her mother, we called down to Miami and put my cousin Pedro on the trail of her Grandma Mazur's new husband. The man checked out fine; in fact, Mr. Bruno "Bud" Zelnich was exactly who and what he claimed to be - a wealthy and eccentric retiree from Boston, whose four adult children and their families still lived up north. Bud's wife of nearly fifty years had passed away almost a decade ago. Once we told Steph's parents the good news, she and I were able to come together and put aside our cares and concerns as we enjoyed ourselves in bed again.

Thanksgiving Day at RangeMan was mostly quiet. Tank, Brett, Junior, Binky, Hal, Manuel, and I all pulled twelve-hour shifts and everyone else had the day off. Before she and Louis left to spend the day at the home of one of her sons, Ella had set out a fantastic turkey dinner in the conference room for all of us. Some of the guys ate early, but when Lula came over to the building, she insisted that Stephanie and I join her and Tank and we sat down together to share our meal.

"I know what it's like to be working on the holiday and all, but I also know you gotta eat sometime, so you may as well sit down and eat with me!" Lula declared.

None of us wanted to cause a bigger scene, so we obliged her. Actually, the impromptu "family meal" went much better than I thought it would. Even though we had to heat up the food in the kitchen's microwave oven, everything tasted great. Besides the traditional roasted turkey and dressing and mashed potatoes and gravy and pumpkin pie, Ella had cooked up a plate of beef empanadas and a creamy caramel-covered flan. Tank's only complaint was that Hal and Junior had eaten both of the turkey drumsticks.

"Hey, man," Junior grinned when confronted, "you snooze, you lose. Back when I was kid, I _**always**_ got the turkey leg. You're just mad because you weren't fast enough to get one."

Tank retaliated by eating one half of the turkey by himself. It was 26-pound bird, so there was plenty left for the rest of us. I ate so much food that I knew I'd have to hit the gym hard for the next few days. It took me a while to realize that I had been eating to dampen my personal frustrations and then I became disgusted with myself. When I finally pushed away my plate and paid attention to the conversation, I heard Lula entertaining Stephanie and Tank with a story about a dream she'd had the previous night.

"I swear, one minute it was Ranger standing next to my man and the next minute, it was Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson grinning up at Tank!" Lula exclaimed. "They were wearing nice suits and Ranger and the Rock kept switching back and forth! It was a feast for the eyes, I tell you! That Rock sure is _**fine**_!" Then Lula looked a bit sheepish and added, "Except, nobody's as fine as my Tank – no offense to you, Ranger."

I just nodded and said, "None taken."

She continued, "But the best part was the _**pink**_ _**suit**_! All of the sudden, in my dream, Tank was wearing the most fabulous pink suit _**ever**_. Everything was pink – the jacket, the pants, the vest, the tie – _**everything**_! Tank even had on a matching pink fedora! I can still see it clearly in my mind's eye. It's a sure sign that he's supposed to wear a pink suit on our wedding day!"

I exchanged wary glances with Tank and Stephanie and we knew that we had to put a stop to Lula's madness before she drove her man away again. "Lula," I began, "Tank doesn't own a pink suit."

Stephanie picked right up and added, "And I hate to point out the obvious, but your wedding is in _**less than a week**_. It would take a lot of time and money for a tailor to make a pink suit like the one you described from your dream. No way are you getting a pink suit for Tank in time for your wedding."

"But pink is my favorite color!" Lula protested.

"Then why don't _**you**_ wear a pink suit, instead?" Tank grumbled.

Lula sucked in air, but Steph quickly cleared her throat and said, "Lula, that's a great idea! If you want, I'll even wear a suit in a different shade of pink and … um, the men can wear pink shirts with their suits."

"Do they _**already**_ have suits that will go with pink shirts?" Lula asked sarcastically. Then she narrowed her eyes and said, "I mean, my wedding _**is**_ in less than a week, as you so recently reminded me."

Stephanie quickly glanced at me and said, "Well … Ranger once told me that most of the guys here at RangeMan have either a blue or a black pin-striped suit. I think pink shirts would go very nicely with them."

"Why do they all have pin-striped suits?" Lula asked.

I closed my eyes and groaned inwardly as Tank glared at me. He knew I must have given away one of our "guy" secrets. The whole suit fiasco was born of a drunken bet between Bobby and Lester after "Casino Royale" came out. A bunch of us had gone to see the movie and afterward, the guys started to argue about which one of us would look better in one of those pin-striped suits. One thing led to another and before we knew it, all of us had invested in the damn things. I had only told Stephanie about this in an attempt to cheer her up. Now the words from my "loose lips" were coming back to haunt me – and Tank.

"Um, well," Steph nervously licked her lips and answered Lula's question, "It's because of James Bond in 'Casino Royale.' Remember that movie?"

Lula appeared to be deep in thought and then she nodded slowly, "Yeah, that's the one with the new guy - the blond James Bond, right? I remember now. He was wearing a suit with a vest and he was carrying a big-ass gun, too. I guess I can imagine Tank wearing that kind of suit. And if I wear a pink suit, then the men could wear pink shirts to match my wedding outfit. You know, that just might work."

"So … you like the pink shirt idea?" Steph asked, her voice full of cautious hope.

Lula glanced between Tank and me, as though she was visualizing each of us wearing pink shirts, and then she smiled. "Oh, hell yeah! That's gonna look real nice!"

I love it when my Babe gets on a roll, but she had just rolled a bit too far. "I'm _**not**_ wearing a pink shirt," I quietly declared.

"Me neither," grumbled Tank.

"Oh, yes, you will," replied Lula, going into her "rhino" mode. "I know my dream meant something and I'm not gonna defy it. That would be bad luck! Everybody _**must**_ wear pink. Besides, Stephanie just came up with a great solution and that's what we're gonna do."

Tank slowly shook his head back and forth and said, "But a pink shirt … woman, that's askin' a lot and I don't think-"

Lula interrupted him by standing up and putting her hands on her hips. "Tank! I've already made a lot of sacrifices for _**your**_ benefit: I agreed to have a December wedding instead of one in June and a small city hall marriage ceremony, instead of a big church wedding. _**And**_ we're having our reception here at the RangeMan building, instead of at a real nice ballroom or something fancy like that. The _**least**_ you can do is put on a damned pink shirt if I ask you to!"

Then Tank stood up to his full height and said, "I don't recall you _**asking**_ me to do anything, Lula. And I told you before that if we get married, I'm not gonna be bossed around by you."

Stephanie scooted her chair closer to mine and we both braced for the fireworks which were sure to come next. Neither of us wanted to see the engaged couple get into an actual fight, but it seemed that that was inevitable. Then the most amazing thing happened. Lula and Tank glared at each other and fumed in silence for a few moments, but then the big woman caved in.

"Alright, Tank," Lula said in a much calmer voice, "I'm _**asking**_ now; will you _**please**_ wear a pink shirt for our wedding? And will you _**please**_ make Ranger wear one, too?"

Tank replied solemnly, "Only if that's what you really want."

Lula nodded once and said, "That's what I really want."

"Then, yes," Tank said, "We'll wear the pink shirts - but only this once and only for you. Understand?"

"I understand," she said. "Thank you."

Then the two of them crashed into each other in a tight embrace. Their kisses became very steamy very quickly and I pulled Stephanie out of there before we witnessed something I truly didn't want to see. After I tugged the conference room door shut, I put up the "Conference in Session" sign and shook my head in disbelief. Then Steph and I looked at each other and burst out in laughter.

"Don't you get any wild ideas from this, Babe," I warned. "Blue is the only color other than black that I'll ever consider wearing on a regular basis."

"Hmm," Steph replied, with a sly smile on her face. "I'll keep that in mind for the future." And then she gave me a reassuring kiss.

Later, when the women went up to the apartment to finalize their plans for Tank and Lula's wedding, I let the men take quick peeks at some of the football games on the TV, which usually was tuned in to the all-news channels. Surprisingly, there were no trouble calls during the entire holiday. I didn't know for sure if that meant that our RangeMan security systems were so superior or just that the criminals were laying low and watching football on TVs they had stolen earlier in the week. While we relaxed on duty, the conversation turned toward Tank's upcoming wedding.

"I can't believe you're really gonna do it this time," Hal said to Tank when he walked back into the control room after a snack break.

Tank shrugged. "I'm ready for it." And he crammed the last piece of pumpkin pie into his mouth.

I turned away from the monitors, glanced at him sideways and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he replied indignantly, glancing back and forth between me and Hal. "You don't think I'm ready?"

I grinned and said, "After that awesome display of domination in the conference room, I'd say you're ready, all right. I just don't know if the rest of us are ready for you and Lula. By the way, what was that little power play between you two?"

"What power play?" Tank tried to look innocent as he flicked some crumbs off of his shirt.

I grinned and replied, "You know what I mean – when Lula backed off and actually _**asked**_ you nicely to wear a pink shirt for your wedding. I've never seen her act that way before. What was that?"

"Oh, _**that**_," he replied nonchalantly. "When I asked Lula to marry me this time, I agreed that I'd be willing to do pretty much whatever she asks me to do, as long as she asks me nicely and doesn't try to boss me around so much. And that's the way things are gonna be from now on."

"You're kidding!" Hal said.

Tank shook his head. "No, I'm not. You see, that's where I made my mistake the last time we almost got married. I didn't lay down the law soon enough and things got outta hand pretty fast. Next thing I knew, Lula was making all these crazy decisions and telling me what was gonna happen and how things were gonna be and finally I just … objected."

"You objected all right," I murmured. "You even went out and adopted some cats once you knew she was allergic to them – just to drive her away."

"Hey!" Tank protested. "I think I'm doin' real good this time, don't you?"

I nodded. "That little psychological operation _**was**_ pretty impressive, my friend. But do you really think that you two can stay with this plan for the long haul? You know, Lula's kind of used to getting her way by demanding it."

The big guy shrugged again. "If she wants to make this marriage thing work, believe me, she'll do whatever it takes to keep me happy. And I'm gonna try to keep her happy, too. Look; I love Lula and I know she loves me, too. But you know there can be only one boss in the house – and that's gonna be me!"

"You said that with real conviction," Hal marveled.

"I really mean it," he insisted. Then he glared at me. "By the way, Ranger, I don't think the men are gonna appreciate the fact that you told Stephanie about the 'James Bond' connection with our suits. I know I sure don't. Now - thanks to you and your big mouth – we're gonna have to wear those damn suits with pink shirts for my wedding! Wait till I tell Santos – he's gonna flip when he hears that you actually divulged one of our secrets to your wife."

Hal nearly fell out of chair laughing.

Then Tank pointed at me, grinned evilly and threatened, "I'm gonna remember this the next time we spar, too. Yo' ass is grass!"

The more I thought about it, the more I decided that so was Stephanie's. She definitely deserved another spanking for the pink shirt ordeal. However, at 0300 hours in the morning, when my shift was over, I went up to the apartment and found my Babe asleep on the living room sofa. She looked so peaceful, so sexy lying there in a silky burgundy-colored nightgown, which had quickly become one of my favorite things for her to wear. I guessed that she had planned to make amends for the pink shirt in her own way, but I hadn't told her how late I'd be working. As soon as I turned off the TV, Steph startled awake.

"What? Who?" she stammered, clearly confused for a moment.

"Shhh, Babe. It's just me." I sat down next her, put my arm around her shoulder and smoothed her tangled curls out of her face.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

I kissed her forehead and replied, "Time to go to bed. I'm going to take a shower first. Want to join me?"

She nodded and I lifted her off of the couch and walked down the hallway to the bathroom with her cradled in my arms. All thoughts of me giving my Babe another spanking flew out of my head as we enjoyed another sexy shower together. The temperature outside had dropped again, so I turned up the apartment's thermostat setting and convinced Steph to climb into bed without any pajamas. It didn't take much coaxing; after all, she knew I wouldn't have allowed clothes to stay on her body anyway. We took advantage of the fact that I was the boss and we both slept in much later than usual.

The rest of the weekend flew by in a blur. I don't know how everyone survived Tank's bachelor party, but we did. We even drank a few extra rounds to celebrate Vince's newly-announced engagement to Connie Rosolli. Stephanie told me that Lula's bachelorette party was quite the hot time, too. Fortunately, Tank was too drunk to care that there had been several exotic male dancers at the ladies' celebration, but I spent the rest of the night making sure that my Babe remembered that she was a very-married woman.

Miraculously, we made it to the county courthouse the next day on time and in the right uniforms for the civil ceremony. Tank and I wore the blue pin-striped suits with the pink shirts - just as Lula had requested. Stephanie looked good enough to eat in her dark pink suit. When the civil ceremony was over, Lula shed the jacket of her pink suit to reveal a shiny, super-tight hot pink dress underneath. She explained that she had kept it buttoned up, because she recognized the Justice of the Peace from her past and she didn't want him to think that she was still a "working girl."

"Of course, now that I'm officially a married lady," Lula declared, "I can wear whatever I damn well please!"

Not that her marital status had ever stopped her before, but nobody, not even Tank, argued with her.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

While Tank and Lula were away on their two-week honeymoon, the other newlyweds, Grandma Mazur and her new husband, Bud, came through for a short visit on their way up to Boston. The happily-married geriatric couple wanted to meet and greet each other's kids and grandkids and great-grandkids before the first heavy snowfall occurred. My parents hosted a small reception for the older newlyweds and everyone had a pleasant time. Bud was a real character, so he and Grandma suited each other just fine.

"I still don't think it's appropriate for people their age to run off and get married like that," my mother sniffed disdainfully after we waved goodbye to Bud and Grandma at the airport.

My father made an exasperated sound and said, "Jeez, Helen, give it a rest! Even _**I**_ can see that your mother and her new husband are very happy together."

"You're just happy because we found out that Bud is a _**wealthy**_ old man!" my mother snapped angrily.

"Yeah," my dad said dreamily. "Ain't that the truth? In fact, I'm overflowing with joy for Edna and Bud. Geezer love can be a beautiful thing – especially if I don't have to witness it happening under my own roof."

On that happy note, Ranger and I excused ourselves and went on our merry way. Grandma Mazur and Bud Zelnich had flown out of Newark, so Ranger and I continued on to New York City. One of RangeMan's long-time clients had offered us tickets to see a hockey game from within the warmth and comfort of his plush private viewing box at Madison Square Garden. How could we pass up that opportunity? Even though my favorite team, the New York Rangers, lost the game, we had a lot of fun. After the hockey game, we stayed overnight at the Plaza Hotel to celebrate our one-month anniversary and we had a fabulous brunch before we returned to Trenton.

Two days after that wonderful weekend, my period arrived on schedule. It was a rough week from that point onward, but Ranger was very sweet - and he wisely kept his mouth shut. He just held me in his arms and cuddled me close to his chest while we slept. Of course, I was very glad not to be pregnant already, but my mother and Valerie were quite disappointed when they discovered that I wasn't "late." My mother had heard from Angie Morelli that Joe had been out on a few dates with a very nice schoolteacher from Hamilton Township and she bemoaned my fate once again.

"You're still on the Pill, aren't you?" my mother demanded to know when I went over to the Burg for Sunday donuts and coffee. "Here I am, praying every day for a grandchild from your womb, and you are _**actively**_ standing God's way. I'll bet if you had married Joseph, he would have thrown out your contraceptives and you'd be pregnant already."

"Oh, for the love of-" I began, but I stopped myself and calmly said, "Mom, I love you, but I am _**not**_ going to discuss having any children for quite a while. What Carlos and I decide to do with our lives is none of your business, anyway, so _**please**_, Mom, leave it alone!"

I heard my mother suck in air, but Valerie smoothly took over the conversation before things could escalate any further. "Actually, Mom, it might be a good thing that Stephanie isn't trying to have a baby yet. Steve and I might still be married if we hadn't had Angie right away. You know how much babies change everything. One minute, you're having intimate, late dinners at fancy restaurants, and the next thing you know, you're stuck at McDonald's forever because they have a play-land for your kids to enjoy while you try to wolf down the leftover bits of their Happy Meals."

"What a charming thought," I mumbled. See? That's why I have a hamster.

I bid them farewell, left the Burg and headed out to do my final bit of last-minute shopping. Ella had been a tremendous help and, for the first time in my adult life, all of my Christmas cards were signed, sealed and delivered before the middle of December. Also, thanks to Ella, most of the gifts I planned to give were already wrapped, too. This was turning out to be my best holiday season ever and it was only half-over.

According to what I knew about the schedule, Ranger and I would return from our honeymoon two days before Christmas. Even though I knew I could run back into town to buy little "stocking stuffer" gifts, I figured I had better finish my major shopping before we departed for the shore. While I was searching for some very special Christmas ornaments and decorations, Lula called me on my cell phone.

"Hey White Girl, where are you?" she demanded.

"I'm out shopping," I replied. "Where are you?"

"I'm standing here in your cubicle - looking for you," she said. "Tank and I just got back into town and we're ready to send you and Ranger off on _**your**_ honeymoon now!"

"Whoopee!" I said sarcastically. "I can hardly wait to dip my toe into the frigid Atlantic Ocean." I knew I sounded grouchy, but I didn't care. The weather had been getting colder and colder all week long, but there still hadn't been any sign of snow. My arms were full of shopping bags, my back was sore and I had a headache. It had been a somewhat frustrating day and I was ready for a long, hot shower.

"Damn, girl! Is it that time of the month again for you?" Lula asked.

"Yeah, it just finished." Then I shot back with my best Jersey girl attitude, "So what of it? And why is everybody concerned with the status of my uterus these days?"

"Nevermind," Lula backed off. "I just wanted to say hi, anyway. When will you be back here at RangeMan?"

"Very soon," I grumbled. "I'm done. Really, really done. I'll be right there." Then I disconnected and walked to my silver Cayenne.

I truly was happy for Lula and Tank. Their two-week honeymoon seemed to have flown by fairly quickly, but they returned to the RangeMan building looking better than anyone had ever seen them. Lula was radiant and Tank seemed mellower than ever before. Obviously, their little vacation had been a great success. I fought off feelings of intense jealousy by reminding myself that Ranger and I would be headed out for our two weeks away from the beepers, phones and faxes very soon.

Lula and I went up to the seventh-floor apartment as soon as I parked in the building's garage. I told her all about Grandma Mazur's elopement and her new husband, Bud. Lula filled in the rest of the details about her honeymoon that she hadn't already told me in her previous phone calls. All the while, I tried not to be depressed about going to Point Pleasant in mid-December for my honeymoon. I had put up a pleasant front for the better part of three weeks, but the stress of not letting Ranger know that I knew his secret was wearing me down.

After Ranger and I ate a late dinner that night, we started packing our suitcases. In the morning, we were supposed to drive out to our "surprise" destination, but I was having difficulty getting excited over my wardrobe. After all, my Man of Mystery had graciously informed me that it didn't really matter what I wore during our honeymoon, because I wouldn't be wearing much of anything for very long. That actually sounded very promising, but I knew I'd need my jeans and a few warm sweaters, as well as my sexier outfits and pieces of lingerie. Things finally came to a head when I asked him which vehicle we were driving to our destination.

Ranger gave me half of a smile and said, "Oh, Lester's gonna drive us tomorrow. That way, we won't have to pay for long-term parking."

"What are you talking about? We won't need long-term parking where _**we're**_ going," I grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow at me and asked, "How do you know where we're going?" And I knew then that I was caught.

At first I thought about playing dumb, but I decided that I was too tired to care anymore, so I just admitted the truth. "Okay, Carlos," I sighed. "I already know we're going to your uncle's place in Point Pleasant for our honeymoon."

The expression on his face didn't change as he asked, "How did you find out?"

"Oh … I overheard you and Lester talking a while ago, so … um, yeah," I admitted. "And it'll be … great. I love Point Pleasant, you know that. Everybody knows that. But don't you think it's weird to have Lester drive us out to the Jersey shore. I mean, won't we need a car at some point? What if we want to go out to dinner somewhere? And how's Lester supposed to get back here? Surely, he's not going to wait on us hand-and-foot while we're staying in your uncle's condo – not if there's a staff and everything."

Ranger had started to chuckle while I was babbling on and on about our trip. He also had moved around to my side of the bed until he was right in front of me and he placed his hands on my shoulders to stop me from cramming another sweater into my suitcase. His dark eyes locked onto mine and I just stared back at him somewhat sheepishly. Then Ranger began to shake with laughter. He was biting on his lip to keep from laughing aloud and suddenly, I started to get mad. I mean, it was _**his**_ fault for being so sneaky – especially after he had promised not to keep secrets from me.

"What's so funny, Carlos?" I demanded to know. "Why are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head and said, "Babe, if only you could have seen your face these past couple of weeks. I knew you were eavesdropping on me and Lester when we we're talking about my plans for our honeymoon. I know you've been moping around, feeling sorry for yourself because you weren't exactly thrilled with my choice of destination. And just now – when you were rolling up that heavy sweater – the expression on your face was priceless!"

"Priceless?" I fumed. "I can't believe this! You _**knew**_ I wanted to go back to sunny Florida for our honeymoon and yet you still chose Point Pleasant, which is great during the summer, but honestly, Carlos, right now, it's gonna be cold and damp out there. So, okay … I admit it. I _**am**_ a teensy bit disappointed, but I know that as long as we're together, the Jersey shore will be just fine."

"I never said we were going to the Jersey shore for our honeymoon, Babe," Ranger said quietly.

"I _**know**_ where Point Pleasant is-" I began, but Ranger interrupted.

"There's more than one Point Pleasant," he said smoothly and he pulled a glossy brochure out of his back pocket for me to read. I accepted it and as I scanned it, the combined horror and hilarity of my situation almost overwhelmed me.

My eyes were brimming with emotional tears when I finally glanced up from the photo on the front of the brochure and choked out some words, "You … _**let**_ me walk around here for almost three weeks, trying to keep my spirits up, when all the time, you _**knew**_. I can't believe you _**tricked**_ me like this!" In my anger and frustration, I turned away from Ranger, pulled two sweaters out of my suitcase and threw them at his smiling face. "You _**rat**_! And I trusted you when you said you wouldn't keep secrets from me anymore!"

Ranger peeled the sweaters off of his head and laughed some more. Then he moved in quickly to wrap his comforting arms around me and kissed me. At first, I wanted to resist him. After all, he had tricked me into believing that I'd have to settle for a honeymoon on a nearby cold and windy beach. He knew that I would assume that he meant Point Pleasant, New Jersey when I overheard him and Lester talking about it. How was I supposed to know that Ranger's Uncle Diego owned a condo in the Point Pleasant Resort, located on the beautiful Caribbean island of _**St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands**_?

**

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**A/N: Yes, I realize that I probably could have provided more details on Tank and Lula's bachelor and bachelorette parties, as well as their wedding and reception, but this story isn't about them. And yes, I also realize that some readers really wanted our dynamic duo to be pregnant already, but this version of Ranger and Steph are going to have a few more adventures together before I send them on **_**that**_** particular journey. I just wanted my story to be a little different from all the ones where our heroes become parents right away. I hope you're not too disappointed. Please keep reading – I'm almost finished typing the next chapter here – and please continue to let me know what you think of my writing. Thanks! :D**


	34. Chapter 34

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: So sorry for the delay! As soon as my kids went back to school, I got called in to teach a few extra classes at our local military community's adult education center and I've been up to my elbows in lesson plans and student assignments. It's been a while since I updated, but I'm glad so many of you really liked Ranger's surprise honeymoon location. Keep in mind that I'm still trying to maintain a "T" rating here, so please bear with me for all my hints, innuendos and euphemisms – I'm sure you'll get the point. Many thanks to "DimariS" for sending in the 700****th**** review for this story! Hugs to you, Di! Enjoy! **

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_By the time we found Hammonton Airport, the sky had lightened a little, and I knew I wasn't going to be saved by rain. The helicopter was sitting on a stretch of blacktop, waiting for us. It was blue and white, had a clear bubble nose, and looked like a big dragonfly. It seated four._

"_Oh God," I said on a moan._

"_Think of this as an adventure," Diesel said._

"_I'm from Jersey. I get my adventure on the Turnpike. I only fly if there's a beach or a casino involved. And then it's a big plane serving alcohol."_

_Plum Spooky_

* * *

**Chapter 34: Frequent Flyers**

**Ranger's POV**

My Babe hates to fly, but I knew she wouldn't mind flying down to the Virgin Islands for our "official" two-week honeymoon. And the Point Pleasant Resort, on the island of St. Thomas, wasn't the newest or fanciest place around, but it was free for me and Steph. Uncle Diego - my mother's brother - has invested in a variety of vacation properties throughout the Caribbean in the years since the family had to leave Cuba. His wife, Mariana, longed to return to their original homeland, but she settled for spending time on other non-Communist islands, instead. For some reason, St. Thomas had become her favorite substitute for Cuba, and they often traveled there during the cold mid-Atlantic winters. Sometimes - rarely, actually -they offered the use of their condo to other family members when they weren't using it. I couldn't have refused my uncle's generous offer, even if I had wanted to do so.

I knew that, eventually, I was going to have to do something about Stephanie's fear of flying aircraft. My business and my missions both required a lot of time traveling the airways between Trenton, Miami, Boston, Atlanta and many other places. I truly needed my wife - now my legal business partner - to become comfortable with the number of flights I envisioned us taking in the future. If it had been a matter of mere airsickness, I could have given her some medication to ease her pains. Unfortunately, Steph's apprehensions were mostly mental, rather than physical; therefore, there was no "magic" pill to cure them, but my devious mind began to think of a plan of action that had a high probability of success once we arrived in the Caribbean.

Admittedly, I was a bad boy for deceiving my Babe about the actual destination of our honeymoon, but I couldn't resist such a great trick. I knew she'd be happy with the Virgin Islands location once she discovered the truth, but she was still upset that I had allowed her to wallow in her self-pity for such a long time. When I tried to explain to Stephanie the difference between keeping harmful secrets from her and arranging wonderful surprises for her, she threw more of her winter clothes at my face.

It took several heartfelt apologies and a whole lot of kisses for Stephanie to begin to forgive me for my duplicity. What was really helpful, though, was that Ella had packed a suitcase full of island-appropriate attire for Steph and when I presented it to my Babe, her eyes lit up and she calmed down. Then, as soon as she really realized that we were headed to the Caribbean for our honeymoon, Steph became as giddy as a child on Christmas Day. Dios! Ella is a true gift from God!

Of course, before we could go to sleep, my Babe had to pull everything out of her suitcase and see the new honeymoon wardrobe for herself. There were sexy new swimsuits and beach wraps, as well as a few nice, but casual outfits suitable for going out to dinner and dancing on the laid-back island. I definitely was looking forward to seeing Steph model everything for me. It took a while to re-pack all of the clothes, but she was very happy with Ella's selections and so was I. After we were set for our early-morning departure, we fell into bed and tried to fall asleep so that we'd be ready for our upcoming adventures.

"How does Ella do it?" Steph wondered aloud as she snuggled into my chest. "She hasn't known me very long, but she understands how to dress and feed me better than my own mother!"

I gently tightened my arm around Steph's shoulder and said, "Well, I've given her a few suggestions from time to time, but Ella is an expert at 'reading' people in her own way. I think that if she had been born a generation later, she'd have made a great special agent. I'm just glad she works for me now."

"Me, too," Steph agreed and she rolled over on top of me and nibbled on my ear. Needless to say, we didn't sleep very much that night.

Although I'd been afraid that Stephanie would be nervous again on the airplane, she actually slept during most of our first-class flight down to San Juan, Puerto Rico. We would have taken a direct flight to St. Thomas, but we needed to sign some paperwork to finish up the Galarza case. A federal agent was supposed to meet us at the airport with the documents and then we would continue on our merry way.

Once we were settled into our seats and the plane had reached its cruising altitude, Steph nodded off to sleep. I could barely believe my eyes! Smiling inwardly, I decided that, in addition to keeping my hand under her shirt, the secret to curbing my Babe's fear of commercial flying was to wear her out completely the night before a flight. She looked so warm and snuggly in her hooded red sweatshirt that I didn't even bother to awaken her for food or beverages. Even the slight turbulence we experienced as we approached San Juan didn't awaken her. It was a different story, though, when we boarded the tiny ten-passenger plane to St. Thomas.

Oddly enough, I became very thankful that the agent and his notary public had been running late. By the time we finished signing all the documents and getting them notarized, we had to hurry to catch the next flight to our destination. Steph balked at the size of the aircraft, and I almost had to push her onto the small plane. When we were settling into our seats, I glanced over at her and said, "Stephanie, we're in a tropical climate now. You can take off that sweatshirt."

Shaking her head frantically, Steph explained, "No, I have to keep it on – in case there's a crash. I don't want my skin to get all scratched up."

I sighed and cradled her hand to my chest. "Babe, this plane is perfectly safe. It will get us to our final destination without a problem."

"Our _**final**_ destination?" she squeaked. "Omigod! Why'd you have to say that? What if we crash? Are there sharks in that water? I don't want to go anymore!"

Annoyed that she had taken my statement totally out of context, I tried to calm and reassure her, "Look, Steph, think of it this way: this'll be the closest you've ever been to flying the way that Wonder Woman flies in her invisible airplane. It'll be an adventure."

Stephanie chewed on her lower lip for a moment before she nodded. "O-okay. This is an adventure." She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself that this could be true.

"We are going to be safe," I insisted, enunciating every word for emphasis.

"Safe," she repeated and nodded once more in determination, but she kept her sweatshirt on even after we landed at the island's scenic airport near the busy port city of Charlotte Amalie. Large cruise ships, as well as a variety of pleasure yachts, dotted the harbor. Stephanie gasped at the sight.

A white-uniformed driver from the resort met us at the airport and I watched my Babe's face light up with joy as our shuttle van slowly pulled onto the property of the Point Pleasant Resort. The red-roofed condominium complex wasn't as modern as the tall hotel on the other side of a wooded area, but Uncle Diego's wife had redecorated their third-floor suite of rooms here several times over the years. The place certainly had character – and a fantastic view of the British Virgin Islands across the water. Although Steph was a little disappointed that there wasn't an elevator to take us up to my uncle's apartment, once she saw the view from the balcony, she admitted that it was well worth the hike.

The spacious apartment had two bedrooms, one with two double beds, and the other room, where we stayed, had a private bathroom and a king-sized bed. Our bedroom also had a large curtain-wall which, when moved to the side, allowed us to look out through the living room and beyond the balcony to see the island's clear blue waters. The comfortable living room was equipped with a large-screen TV and ceiling fans. There was even a small, well-stocked kitchen with a breakfast bar, which separated it from a larger dining room. Everything was decorated in typical island style with light pastels and floral patterns all around. My aunt's taste in décor could best be described as eclectic.

"Wow!" Steph said to me after she finished peering into every nook and cranny of what was now our honeymoon suite. "This place is … _**incredible**_!" Then she finally peeled off her sweatshirt, ran out onto the balcony, released her ponytail and let the island breeze lift her curls off of her shoulders. Dios! My Babe looked like a goddess in blue jeans and a tank top as she stood there against the backdrop of the azure water.

I walked out behind her and wrapped my arms around her. "So … _**now**_ do you forgive me for tricking you?" I murmured into her ear.

"I've been thinking about that," she said and then turned within my embrace to face me. "All will be forgiven if you take me down to that gorgeous beach right now."

"Right now?" I asked and I pulled her tightly against my body to let her know that there was another option immediately available.

"Hmm," she reconsidered. "Perhaps we should get a good night's rest first."

And that's exactly what we did – well, not right away, of course, but it was a very good night, even _**without**_ the rest.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

St. Thomas was one of the prettiest places I'd ever seen in my life. The white sand beaches and crystal-clear azure water beckoned to me every day. This certainly was different from the Point Pleasant back home! I didn't even mind the fact that Ranger and I had to hike up and down the surprisingly hilly terrain to get from our condo building to the beaches and back again. Well, at least, not at first. As the week wore on, though, all the hiking back and forth began to annoy me, but I kept my mouth shut, because I didn't want to sound like a wimp.

All week long, Ranger woke up early, went down to the resort's exercise center for his morning workouts and then he ran his usual gazillion miles before awakening me for an arousing shower. After breakfast, we'd lie on the small private beach for a few hours, worshipping each other's bodies, as well as the sun. Then we'd return to Uncle Diego's condo to have lunch on the balcony, followed by the kind of afternoon "siesta" where we didn't sleep all that much.

Some afternoons – _**if**_ we decided to crawl out of bed - we explored the island of St. Thomas. Ranger made sure that I saw some of the typical tourist sites, such as the Coral World Ocean Park, where we saw the most amazing sea life swimming in and around the reefs. We also hiked up to the pirate Bluebeard's tower. It was a lot of fun to hear the legends and folktales about many of the pirates who sailed the waters around this part of the Caribbean Sea. We also went to a place called the Butterfly Farm down in the main city of Charlotte Amalie, where we were surrounded by thousands of the fascinating things. The lecture was a little boring, but I loved watching all the butterflies as they flapped their gorgeous wings and flew all around the enclosed area. Oh, how I envied them!

In the evenings, Ranger and I sampled the nightlife down in town, as well as at our resort. The clubs in Charlotte Amalie were crowded with cruise ship passengers and other vacationers from the mainland, especially since many schools were already on their winter holiday breaks, but we were able to find a few less-crowded places. Ranger promised me that we would return to this part of the Caribbean someday during the off-season when it was less crowded and then we could go island-hopping over to St. John or Tortola, both of which we could see from the condo's terrace.

"And when might that be?" I asked him, as our driver returned us to the resort after a night of dancing under the stars at a place called Duffy's Love Shack down in the charming village of Red Hook.

Ranger shrugged and said, "Not sure, Babe. It all depends on how soon Papí Súarez would be willing to lend us his crew to sail down here."

Intrigued, I asked, "Wait. Are you saying we could do that? We could come all the way down here in the _Batcave_ - and not in an airplane?"

"Sure," Ranger nodded. "That's normally the way Papí travels to his favorite spots throughout the Caribbean. He hates planes more than you do."

The main restaurants at our resort, Agave Terrace and Fungi's on the Beach, both offered live music. Agave Terrace usually had a steel-pan orchestra which played a variety of musical styles – not Metallica, mind you – but a nice mix of everything from soothing calypso songs to mellow island reggae to lively salsa and more. Ranger coerced me into doing some of the dance moves that Cat and Val had taught me at the club in South Beach, and one night some of the other patrons even applauded us. One song was quite familiar to me, especially because my parents loved the original version of it, but it had been altered to fit in with the island grooves.

"Isn't this 'Stand By Me' by Ben E. King?" I asked Ranger as he held me close and we swayed together on the small dance floor.

He nodded and replied, "Yes, but this version has been made into a bachata and singer is mixing Spanish words in with the English ones. Listen. Can you hear the back beat?"

I didn't have to hear it, because Ranger was already moving our bodies to the altered rhythm. He also told me this version of the well-known song by a singer named Prince Royce was burning up the music charts. Apparently, several of Ranger's teenaged nieces had become fangirls of this particular singer, especially because he was so cute and sang mostly bachata tunes, which tended to be very sensuous. I always needed a cool drink after Ranger and I danced in that style. Believe me, the bachata definitely fit into in the category of vertical foreplay.

Unfortunately, Ranger had a minor accident one morning after we'd danced quite sexily the previous night. Worse, the whole thing was my fault. While he was in the bathroom, shaving the smooth areas around the beard on his face, I decided to get up and make some coffee. I padded into the kitchen, reached for the coffee maker, and stopped in my tracks. A slimy green creature on top of the coffee maker stopped in its tracks, too. We stared at each other for a long moment before I scrambled to get onto one of the kitchen chairs and then I let out a blood-chilling scream.

Ranger ran out into the kitchen with his gun drawn. I don't know how he transported his weapons, but he'd been carrying a concealed one ever since we arrived on the island. I screamed again when I saw him - he was wearing only a towel around his waist and shaving cream was still slathered over half of his face. Whereas most men probably would have looked silly, Ranger looked very dangerous, shaving cream and all.

"What happened?" Ranger demanded to know as he lowered his pistol, apparently satisfied that I wasn't in any danger from an armed intruder. "Are you hurt?"

"It-it-it's a _**lizard**_!" I yelled.

"What?" He glanced around, confused, until I pointed toward the kitchen counter.

"Over there," I replied, "on top of the coffee maker."

Ranger shook his head in disbelief and said, "Stephanie, that's a gecko – you know, like the one in those funny insurance commercials on TV. It's harmless - beneficial even. It eats bugs."

"I d-d-don't care," I stammered. "I h-hate lizards!"

Ranger picked up the slimy thing, went to the balcony and threw it out into one of the nearby trees. Then he stalked back into the kitchen, wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me down from the chair on which I had been standing. My wonderful Batman calmly led me into the living room and he sat on the sofa with me, holding me safely in his muscular arms until my breathing returned to normal.

"Babe," he finally said, "this is a tropical island and we're staying in a place with an open architecture to let in the sea breezes. Lizards and insects _**will**_ find their way inside, too. That gecko helps out by eating lots of the bugs around here."

"Eew!" I shivered again and said, "I've seen those lizards around – on the walls and ceilings and window sills ever since we arrived here, but I _**don't**_ want to see it eating bugs while it's sitting on top of our morning coffee."

"You actually _**saw**_ the gecko eating a bug?" Ranger asked. "Is that what made you scream?" When I nodded I could tell that he was trying hard not to laugh.

"It's not funny!" I exclaimed, beginning to feel a little defensive. "And I'm not drinking any coffee from _**that**_ thing until we rinse it out with bleach or something."

I was pointing back at the coffee maker, which now was covered with bug-eating lizard cooties, when I suddenly noticed something strange about Ranger's face. I reached up to wipe away the partially dried shaving cream and gasped aloud. Part of his mustache and beard was missing!

Sighing, he nodded and explained that he already knew that it was gone before I had a chance to say anything, "I was shaving when I heard your screams and I lost control of the razor. I'll have to shave the whole thing off now."

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed. "Maybe you could just shape it up here and there.

Ranger shook his head. "It's okay, Babe. Really."

I felt so bad. This was all my fault! "I'm so sorry, Carlos. If there's anything I can do to make up for this, I'll do it. I really didn't mean for this to hap-"

He placed his index finger over my lips to shush me. "As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me. It's been a while since I had a totally clean-shaven face, but I'm fine with it that way. Who knows? You might actually like my face without any scratchy facial hair on it." Then he nuzzled my neck, getting shaving cream all over it, and murmured, "There might even be unforeseen benefits, especially now that you _**owe**_ me."

Oh boy!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

Sometimes, my Babe is a complete mystery to me. She doesn't always possess the confidence in herself that she ought to have, even though she's beautiful and strong and courageous. She's my own personal Wonder Woman, after all. People have attacked her, shot at her, stalked her and betrayed her, and yet she's still standing. Unlike many women I've known, Stephanie Plum isn't even the slightest bit afraid to get dirty and she regularly ends up covered in all sorts of garbage and muck. So you can imagine my surprise over the gecko incident.

Steph owns a creature that's basically a rat - even though Rex is like a smaller and furrier and, I suppose, better looking than your average rat. So, I had a hard time understanding why my beautiful and brave Wonder Woman was afraid of a beneficial lizard. Even after I explained to her that the gecko wouldn't ever bite her or hurt her in any way, she continued to stand on a kitchen chair until I removed the poor bug-munching creature from her presence. And she certainly didn't appreciate my comment about how cool it was that she'd had the opportunity to see the "circle of life" in action.

As for my ruined mustache, I truly didn't mind having to shave off all of my facial hair. I was more upset with myself for allowing my Babe's screams to unnerve me. There was no denying it; ever since I got married, I was becoming a big softy and that wasn't a good thing. Other than the whole infertility issue, sentimentality was another reason I never allowed myself to become overly-involved with any woman over the years. Too many emotional ties can cause distractions in the brain, and in my line of work, a lack of concentration on the job can get a man killed.

Nevertheless, after so many years in the Army, the clean-shaven look was very familiar to me and my beard always grew back quickly. In fact, I knew that I'd have a nice growth of stubble by the end of our honeymoon. Still, it was kind of sweet the way that Stephanie had vowed to "make it up to me" for causing me to have to shave it all off in the first place. And I knew exactly how I planned to collect on her indebtedness to me; even though I kept my plans to myself for a few more days.

At the end of the first week of our honeymoon, I finally agreed to accompany my Babe on an afternoon shopping trip in Charlotte Amalie. Steph wandered through both the fancy and the not-so-fancy shops to find more Christmas gifts for everyone back home. When we were hiking back to our building, Stephanie sat down on one of the benches that lined the rocky path and she wouldn't go any further. Admittedly, the property on the resort was very hilly and I was glad for the extra exercise, because all of our relaxation was beginning to make me feel lazy, too. Clearly, my Babe didn't share my point of view.

"Carlos, I'm tired," she whined. "All this walking up and down and up and down these hills several times a day is killing me!"

I sat down next to her and patted her knee. "It's good for you, Babe. You should see your legs – I can tell that they've already become more toned since we've been here."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm when she replied, "Great! I'll have the most toned and tanned legs in all of Trenton when we get home. Sadly, since I'll be _**crippled**_ and need to use a wheelchair after this trip, my legs will be hidden under a warm blanket all winter long."

"We'll be in Florida most of the winter," I reminded her, but she rewarded my comment with a dark scowl.

I didn't think it would help matters if I scolded her for wearing her stylish, but severely impractical, high-heeled sandals for a day of walking around town, so I decided to do something else. In an effort to lift Steph's spirits and distract her from her pain, I swung both of her legs up onto my lap and removed her offending shoes. As I had suspected, several blisters had formed on her feet where her thin sandal straps had rubbed against her skin. Lacking a first-aid kit, I kissed my Babe's tired feet and gently blew on the blisters to cool them.

"Oh!" Steph sighed. "That feels so good. These blisters have been killing me all day."

I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face to mine. "You should have said something earlier, Babe. We could have stopped."

Her blue eyes gazed into mine and she protested, "Not after I practically had to beg to get you to take me shopping! No way was I going to admit that I'd worn crappy shoes for walking around all day. I didn't want to seem like such a wimp."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "Steph, you are _**not**_ a wimp, and in the next few days, I'm going to prove to you that you're anything but a wimp. But Babe, I don't ever want anyone or anything to hurt you – not me, not you, and certainly not these damn shoes." Then I picked up her sandals and tossed them far into the forest.

"Hey!" she protested. "What do you think you're doing? Those are Via Spigas and they cost a lot of money. I need them!"

"Not here, you don't," I replied as I stood up. "And I don't care how much they cost; I'll buy you some more when we get back to the mainland. For now, you need to wear shoes that won't turn your feet into hamburger meat."

Naturally, she didn't share my point of view. Instead, she glared at me and asked, "And just how am I supposed to walk on this friggin' rocky path without screwing up my feet even more?"

"You're not," I shrugged. "I'm going to carry you the rest of the way – and don't even think about arguing with me, Babe. You can walk up the stairs when we get to our building, if you want, but I don't want you to hurt your feet anymore by wearing worthless shoes _**or**_ by walking on this rocky path." Then I turned around so that Steph could climb onto my back and she complied without any further discussion. After I looped the handles of the shopping bags over my wrists, I held her shapely legs securely to my sides and trudged up the path to the condo.

Steph didn't say another word to me until I set her down on the cool, tiled floor of the building. Obviously, she had been doing some pretty heavy thinking while she'd been riding on my back. When I turned her around to face me, I could see the smoldering heat in my Babe's eyes and I knew then that we were gonna have some great "make-up" sex, so I threw her over my shoulder and carried her all the way up to the apartment. We barely made it into the bedroom.

Afterward, we enjoyed a long hot shower together and then I did what I could to relieve the pain of Steph's blisters. I informed her that I had no intention of letting her walk back down to the dining room that evening, so I ordered dinner to be delivered to our suite. My Babe was amazed that we could get Chinese food at our island resort, and she was pleasantly surprised that the food was very good. Later, as she and I sat on lounge chairs out on the balcony and drank a few cold Coronas, I told Steph about my plans for the rest of our time on St. Thomas.

"I know we've seen a lot of tourist attractions since we've been here, Babe," I explained when she expressed her doubts. "But I want us to have some _**real**_ memorable adventures while we're here, too."

She slowly moved her fingers across my chest and down my torso before she murmured seductively, "I think our … um … adventures have been pretty memorable already, don't you?"

I smiled at her attempts to distract me. My body definitely agreed with Steph, but I remained focused on my plans. I truly wanted to go out and do things during our second week on St. Thomas – things which wouldn't tear up my Babe's feet. Of course, I didn't tell her that the purpose for all the activities I had planned was to cure her of her anxieties about flying. What I said next, though, definitely provoked her into action.

"Babe, these activities are relatively safe – even tame – compared to your normal life back in Trenton," I reasoned. "I _**know**_ you don't want to return to RangeMan and admit to all the guys that you wimped out on me here. Besides, you still _**owe**_ me for the mustache." After that, she didn't say another word as she grudgingly accepted the stack of informative brochures I gave her.

The next morning, after I returned from my run, I found Steph sitting outside, on a deck chair by the pool nearest to our building. She was studying all of the brochures I had given her the previous evening and she had a curious expression on her nicely tanned face. When she noticed that I was standing there watching her, she gave me a big smile. Then I knew that she was convinced – _**and**_ that we were going to have some great adventures that week.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

At first, I thought Ranger was crazy when he said he was tired of lying around on the beach all day long. I mean, he ran and exercised every morning before we trudged down to the water's edge, so I figured he was fine. And we had gone on excursions practically every afternoon. We visited other beaches around the island, including the ridiculously gorgeous Magens Beach, we toured historical buildings and we only went shopping once. After studying the brochures Ranger had given to me, though, I realized that my shopping "high" was nothing compared to the adrenaline rush we were sure to get if we went on a few excursions of _**his**_ choosing.

Needless to say, the boat tour around the island was fantastic. I was surprised when the captain dropped anchor in several different areas so that we and the other tourists could go snorkeling. The water was so clear and calm that tiny, multi-colored fish would swim all around me whenever I stood still for more than a minute. It was possible to reach down through the shallow water to touch the sea creatures lying there in the sand. I even held a starfish in my hand!

The next day, we went jet-skiing, which was just as much fun as zipping around on a Ducati Monster motorcycle on land. In the morning, Ranger and I piloted individual watercraft around the bay and we raced each other until we had to return the vehicles to the rental facility. In the afternoon, though, I insisted on riding together. I sat behind Ranger with my arms wrapped snugly around his waist, and I teased him with lots of kisses on his back and neck. As soon as we returned the jet-skis, he pulled me into secluded place and repaid me for all my teasing. That was even more fun!

I wasn't too sure about Ranger's final chosen activity, but I figured that it would be okay because he loved me and he wouldn't want me to do anything where I might be injured. My confidence weakened a bit as we signed all the waivers and agreements not to sue the tour company if we did get injured during the activity, but Ranger's full 200-watt smile enabled me to take a deep breath and press onward like a big girl. I could do this, I told myself – over and over again. I would _**not**_ wimp out!

The tour guides, who also were the captain and first mate of the boat that took us away from dry land, rigged me and Ranger into a double-seated parasailing harness. I was extremely nervous when Ranger reached over and held my hand to reassure me. The temptation to close my eyes and grit my teeth was very strong, but my curious nature got the best of me and I'm sure that my eyes were as wide as saucers as the colorful synthetic material caught air and we lifted up into the sky like a kite.

"Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!" I kept chanting in a low whisper.

Ranger gently squeezed my hand and said, "You're doing great, Babe. Just don't forget to breathe."

I inhaled and exhaled deeply several times and then an amazing sense of calm came over me. As I looked out over the horizon and saw the big expanse of water in front of me, as well as the breathtaking view of the beautiful islands off to the side of my field of vision, I suddenly realized that I was flying. Okay, so it was in a double-seated parasail rig thingy and Ranger was sitting right next to me, but still - I, Stephanie Plum, was _**flying!**_

"So … what do you think?" Ranger asked me after the crew had reeled us back in onto the back of the boat.

I turned to him and exclaimed, "I love it! Can we do this again tomorrow? And the next day, too?"

He flashed me another full smile and just said, "Babe."

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

Stephanie enjoyed parasailing so much that I paid for us to go up twice more that day. It felt great for me to be up in the air again, especially since it had been a while since any of my missions had required me to jump out of any aircraft. The aerial view of the island was spectacular, but the best part was the look of pure exhilaration on my Babe's face as the parachute canopy lifted us high above the boat to which we were anchored.

"I … I'm flying!" Steph exclaimed when we went up the second time. "It's like I'm really flying up here!"

I grinned at her and held her hand. "Yeah, Babe, you're finally flying. I told you that you weren't a wimp."

The third time we went up in the air, Stephanie was much more relaxed. She even began to point out the various places we'd visited around the island as we passed by them. I could see it in her face and in the way she held her body that, although I had agreed that we would come back out the next day, I'd definitely be able to convince Steph to go up in a solo rig.

Of course, the tour company guys were very happy to accommodate us, especially because I ended up paying for us parasail twice more together and for Steph to go solo four times. The crew even gave her a big, goofy-looking yellow parachute, with a smiley face design on the canopy. It completely suited her mood. By the end of her third round, she was coming in like a pro as the crew reeled her down onto the back of the boat. I was so proud of my Babe and it was great to see that she was proud of herself, too. Admittedly, I'd gotten Steph hooked on air and we were well on our way to becoming the frequent flyers I knew we could be.

"How did that feel?" I asked Steph during our ride back to the resort after her final parasail flight that day.

"That was … _**amazing**_!" she gushed. "Almost as good as that time when we had sex on the beach in Miami!"

"Babe?" I gave her a sideways glance.

Then she quickly added, "I said _**almost**_."

That night, and for the next two days after that, I kept my Babe occupied with "regular" honeymoon activities. Although I was very happy that she enjoyed being up in the air, I still wanted her main adrenaline rushes to come directly from spending quality time with me. Giving her "piggyback rides" every morning, I carried Steph down to the resort's private beach and then back up to the condo every afternoon, as well as to the restaurant for dinner in the evenings. After our final day on the beach at Point Pleasant Resort, we didn't leave the suite again until it was time for us to check out. Call me selfish – I don't mind. It's true.

Two days before Christmas, we boarded a large jet for our nonstop flight back to New York. This time, Stephanie wasn't nearly as anxious as she had been before our honeymoon. She still wanted to cuddle up with me under a blanket as soon as the plane had reached cruising altitude, but she didn't really need to use my relaxation techniques anymore to help her survive the flight. My Babe and I very nearly joined the "mile-high club" during the flight. Only the curious glances and surly scowls of our fellow first-class passengers prevented us from achieving full membership. Nevertheless, the knowledge that I now posessed a new goal for the future definitely put a smile on my face. Becoming frequent flyers was going to have its advantages - I was sure of it.

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**A/N: Okay, here's the deal: my friendly beta, Claire, finally has convinced me that I should chop up the last few chapters I've written. Never mind the fact that I don't have time for this. I **_**was**_** trying to finish this story with 35 chapters and an epilogue. Claire knows that many people like longer chapters, but she thought that Ranger and Steph's honeymoon deserved to have a chapter all to itself. I grudgingly agreed with her, so now I'm editing and revising and looking for a few more quotes to set the tone for the "new" chapters. Yes, it's my story, but I truly appreciate each and every one of the reviews I receive, because I want to be a better writer. Your honest assessments are important and helpful to me. Thanks for your continued patience! Keep reading! :) **


	35. Chapter 35

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world and I've created a few more friends to join in on the fun in this story.**

**A/N: First of all, I need to thank my wonderful beta, Claire, for hanging in there with me despite all the delays. It's like I dropped off the face of the earth for a month. I'm so sorry about that! Real life took over with a vengeance and between my teaching schedule and my normal/crazy duties as a mother/chauffeur of two active teens, I've scarcely had time to catch my breath, let alone do any work on any stories. After I took a good look at it, I realized that I truly needed to separate the original form of this chapter into three distinct chapters, especially in order to give the honeymoon its own space. Everyone who reviewed it seemed to like it that way, too. Of course, it has taken me a while to rework the newly formed chapters, as well as the rest of the story, but I believe that you'll like the results. Thanks again for your patience. Enjoy! **

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_There was a time when I considered Ranger's surveillance an invasion of privacy, but that time was long gone. There's not much point to worrying about things you can't control, and I had no control over Ranger._

_Lean Mean Thirteen_

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_**And previously …**_

_That night, and for the next two days after that, I kept my Babe occupied with "regular" honeymoon activities. Although I was very happy that she enjoyed being up in the air, I still wanted her main adrenaline rushes to come directly from spending quality time with me. Giving her "piggyback rides" every morning, I carried Steph down to the resort's private beach and then back up to the condo every afternoon, as well as to the restaurant for dinner in the evenings. After our final day on the beach at Point Pleasant Resort, we didn't leave the suite again until it was time for us to check out. Call me selfish – I don't mind. It's true._

_Two days before Christmas, we boarded a large jet for our nonstop flight back to New York. This time, Stephanie wasn't nearly as anxious as she had been before our honeymoon. She still wanted to cuddle up with me under a blanket as soon as the plane had reached cruising altitude, but she didn't really need to use my relaxation techniques anymore to help her survive the flight. My Babe and I very nearly joined the "mile-high club" during the flight. Only the curious glances and surly scowls of our fellow first-class passengers prevented us from achieving full membership. Nevertheless, the knowledge that I now possessed a new goal for the future definitely put a smile on my face. Becoming frequent flyers was going to have its advantages - I was sure of it._

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**Chapter 35: More Holiday Helpers**

**Stephanie's POV**

When we left New Jersey to go on our Caribbean honeymoon trip, the Christmas season was just beginning to take shape. By the time we returned to Trenton, the first snow had fallen and colorful twinkle lights hung from every front porch and storefront in sight. Although I already missed the warmth and laziness of our time on the beautiful tropical island of St. Thomas, it was great to be home for the holidays – especially since I was ready for the main events this year!

Ella and I had discussed plans for giving the RangeMan headquarters building a more festive look this year. Ranger laughed aloud when he saw the Christmas tree that our exceptional housekeeper had put up in our apartment. It was covered with the Batman and Wonder Woman ornaments that I had culled from every Party City store and novelty shop in the area before I left for my honeymoon. I was very happy with Ella's handiwork.

As the new "woman of the house," I had given Ella free reign to do whatever else she felt like doing and she took full advantage of Ranger's absence. The main lobby, as well as all the hallways of the Haywood building, sparkled with all manner of bright and cheerful holiday decorations. Everything looked very special and magical and I couldn't stop smiling.

"Proud of you, Babe," Ranger whispered into my ear as we got ready for bed that night. "That was a great idea you had for decorating our tree. And this is the first time we've had more than a little tabletop Christmas tree down in the lobby."

I turned and smiled up at him. "Truthfully, I had very little to do with it – you should be thanking Ella. I'm glad you sent her to help me figure out all the plans for the holidays. She had so many great ideas about how to make this place look special; I couldn't believe that you hadn't tapped into her natural talent for decorating."

Ranger shook his head and turned down the sheets of our bed. "Tank and I never really saw the need to waste money on a bunch of frou-frou holiday decorations around here."

My jaw dropped open in disbelief, but before I could say anything, he continued.

"We're a bunch of battle-hardened guys, Babe," Ranger explained. "Most of us have rarely been anywhere near home during the holidays. By the time we get around to celebrating Christmas, it's all about the presents _**under**_ the tree – not the tree itself. Hell, most of the time the tree is dead and gone when we unwrap our gifts."

"Hmph!" I rolled my eyes as I hung up the bathrobe and fluffed my freshly washed and blow-dried hair. "Somehow, I doubt that your mother or even your Abuela Blanca never decorated for the holidays. Didn't you ever help your poor grandmother put the star on the top of the tree?"

"No, Babe, I wasn't involved in all that girly stuff," Ranger declared with a wicked half-grin. "Val had the artistic eye. He helped Abuela Blanca and they both chased me away from their handiwork. Apparently, they thought that I was only good for running more laps around the track - which is why I still have such great stamina." Then he plucked the nightshirt out of my hands before I could put it on and tossed the silky material onto the back of the chair, clearly indicating that it would only have been a waste of time if I had worn it to bed.

"Unh! Men!" I scoffed and climbed into bed stark naked.

Ranger stood beside the bed for a moment and remarked drily, "I don't recall _**you**_ ever caring this much about the holidays before now, Babe."

"I never had Ella to help me before now!" I exclaimed as I pulled the covers on top of me. "She's a true Godsend!"

He nodded and slid into bed next to me. "That she is. You know, Steph, you and Ella really did a great thing and I can see that all the men are happy this year. On behalf of all of RangeMan of Trenton, I thank you."

I rolled over on top of him, kissed his delicious lips and said, "You're welcome." And then we proceeded to demonstrate our deep appreciation for each other, as well as Ranger's considerable stamina, long into the night.

Christmas Eve day dawned bright and cold, without a hint of new snow. It was a good thing that the previous snow hadn't melted yet. I was giddy about having finished all my shopping before the last-minute mad rush for picked-over goods at the mall. That wasn't going to be me this year. No sir, Stephanie Plum was ready for Christmas on time for a change! Unfortunately, my buddy, Lula, was not.

"C'mon, girlfriend," Lula urged as she forcibly pulled me out of her red Firebird and dragged me into the shopping mall when its doors opened. "You gotta help me! I got three hours to finish buying presents. Let's go!"

I gave her my best Burg glare and growled, "Lula! I can't believe you lied to me like this! I _**hate**_ coming to the mall at this time of year – and especially on _**this**_ particular day. You didn't say anything about shopping; you only said you needed my help to pick up a skip. You know how much I hate being lied to!" My Italian temper had flared up and I was flapping my arms in exasperation.

Lula ignored my almost-tantrum and replied, "I wasn't lying, Miss I'm-all-ready-for-Christmas! My skip, Harold Nelson, really is here at the mall right now. He's working at one of them cheap jewelry kiosks over by the food court – or, at least, he _**will**_ be by lunchtime - so we should be able to do a little last-minute shopping, grab a quick bite to eat and then pick up Ol' Hotfingers Hal on our way out. Now come on – time's a'wastin'!"

Growling my discontent, I grudgingly followed Lula into the mayhem that was the mall on the day before Christmas. The only reason this scheme had a chance of succeeding was that two Merry Men were following behind us. Now that both Lula and I were married to their bosses, our RangeMan shadows went everywhere with us. Part of me felt offended, but the other part felt highly confident that would accomplish our mission.

Four hours later, Lula had finished her shopping, I'd found a few last minute trinkets for Valerie's kids, and we had were headed to the Trenton Police Department to turn in Lula's skip. Of course, my police-shy partner coerced _**me**_ into going inside with Junior and Ram when they escorted Harold Nelson into the cop shop. I crossed my fingers in the hope that I wouldn't run into Joe Morelli while I was there. Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky.

"Hey, Stephanie," I heard the familiar voice behind me as I finished signing the paperwork. "Nice tan."

Sighing inwardly, I picked up my receipt and turned to face my former boyfriend. "Oh, hi, Joe. Thanks, we just got back from our, um … from the Caribbean."

Morelli smiled and said, "So I've heard. Relax, Cupcake - I'm glad you had a good honeymoon. You look … happy. And really, I'm happy for you. Just … try to stay out of trouble, okay?" He glanced beyond me and smirked at the sight of my RangeMan escort. "May I have a word with you … in private? I mean, is that allowed these days?"

I glanced over my shoulder at Ram and Junior and decided that nothing bad would happen while they waited for me. "Okay," I nodded, feeling slightly awkward as I followed Joe into his office. "But make it quick. My parents are expecting Ranger and me for dinner at six o'clock sharp."

Joe smiled as though he was glad that he no longer had to endure dinner with the Plums. I guess I couldn't blame him for that - sometimes, I wished I didn't have to go there, either. Life wasn't fair, but at least I knew I'd still get a piece of my mother's pineapple upside-down cake at the end of the day. Joe would have to find his own cake from now on.

"Listen, Cupcake," Morelli began and then he winced at his use of that nickname. "I mean, Steph. I wanted you to hear this from me first and not from the Burg grapevine." Then he leaned over and whispered into my ear, "You can't tell anybody around here, but I'm going to ask Linda Hansen to marry me tonight after the midnight Mass."

"What?" I exclaimed and then I lowered my voice when I saw the curious glances of several police officers and hissed. "But, Joe, you hardly even know her! And since when do _**you**_ go to Midnight Mass?"

Joe whispered, "Since I started dating a school teacher with two-thirds of her class in the Christmas play tonight."

"Wow!" I said and raised both of my eyebrows. "It _**must**_ be true love, then. You never went to Mass for me, or your mother - or even Grandma Bella, for that matter!"

He shrugged and continued to speak in a low voice. "I know, it sounds crazy, but Steph, I feel like I've known Linda all of my life instead of only six weeks. She's everything I've ever wanted in a woman."

Surprised by the sudden ache in my chest, I murmured, "Everything?"

Morelli nodded. "She's really special, Steph – I think you'll like her, too. She loves kids and she says she can hardly wait to have a whole bunch of her own. We hardly ever argue about, well, anything. Linda is … ready to settle down - with me - and I'm sure that she'll say yes to my proposal tonight."

Now my heart really ached. "You know that her cousin is one of Ranger's men, right?"

Grinning, Joe rocked back on his heels and softly said, "Oh yeah, I know. Cal and I had a little discussion before I spoke to Linda's father – his uncle. _**Then**_ I went out and bought the ring."

"I guess it's all settled then," I whispered. "I … I wish you all the best, Joe. Truly, I do."

"I know, and that means a lot to me," he replied in my ear. "I hope we'll always be friends, Steph. That's why I wanted to tell you first. Maybe you'll even decide to, um, come to the wedding. I'd like to have you there – and Ranger, of course."

"Of course," I murmured, "Thanks for letting me know. Just ...keep us posted and we ... we'll try to be there." Then I turned to go and Joe followed me out into the corridor.

"Please give your husband my regards, Mrs. Mañoso," Joe said in a loud and cheerful tone of voice. "Oh yeah, and have a Merry Christmas!" Then he winked at me and sauntered back toward his office.

Ranger was out on a nearby trouble call when I returned to the Haywood building, so I finished up a few searches, shut off my computer and trudged up to the seventh floor. I decided to take a nap while I waited for him to come home. Showering together had quickly become my favorite end-of-the-day "ritual" with him. Of course, Ranger noticed my pensive mood immediately upon his arrival at our apartment, but he graciously waited until after our shower before he questioned me.

"What's on your mind, Babe?" Ranger asked. "If you've decided that you don't want to go to your parents' house for dinner after all, we won't go."

I shook my head and said, "No, that's not it."

We _**couldn't**_ cancel our dinner plans at this point. When I informed my parents that Ranger and I would be working on Christmas Day, they insisted that we come to dinner on Christmas Eve, especially since Valerie and her family would be visiting with Albert's mother to celebrate the final day of Chanukah. Grandma Mazur and her new husband had just returned from Boston the previous week, but they planned to be in Florida for New Year's Eve. My mother would be devastated if we didn't come to dinner tonight.

Besides, I knew that my family would be astonished that I not only had presents for everyone, but they were _**good**_ presents this year _**and**_ everything was nicely wrapped. Have I mentioned that I love St. Ella? And since Ranger had almost always worked during the holidays, his family was accustomed to not seeing him until the long after Christmas, so there wasn't a conflict from that direction. No, dinner with my family wasn't the problem.

"Joe's getting married," I blurted out. "I saw him this afternoon and he told me that he's going to pop the question tonight. I … I'm happy for him."

Ranger nodded and said, "Babe, I'm glad that Joe is moving on. It's a good match. I knew it would be."

I realized then that Cal had probably kept Ranger informed of every move Joe made with his cousin. We finished getting dressed in silence. There wasn't really anything more to say. My Batman, of course, dressed all in black - which I didn't think was very Christmassy – but I wasn't about to complain about his wardrobe. Oh, no; I'd leave _**that**_ to my mother.

Ranger's pleated slacks, topped by a mock turtleneck sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, looked very classy anyway. After he combed his still-short hair, he placed a small silver hoop in one earlobe and he winked at my reflection in the dressing room mirror. Then he walked over to the den. It wasn't fair that he was ready to go so quickly. Men!

Although it took me a bit longer to decide what to wear, at least _**I**_ got into the spirit of Christmas and dressed more appropriately for the holiday. After pulling on a comfortable pair of hunter green corduroy slacks and a dark red, boat-neck sweater, I felt pretty good about myself. I accessorized my outfit by wearing the red crystal jewelry that I had purchased down in Miami. My hair, however, was a frizzy disaster. The best I could do was to pull my unruly tresses back into the customary ponytail and forget about it. I think it preferred the tropical climate - and, quite frankly, I did, too.

As I emerged from the dressing room, Ranger pulled me into an embrace and he nuzzled my neck. "You look great," he said. His warm lips tickled my ear and worked their way back down to my throat. "You know how much I like this jewelry on you, right?"

"I remember," I said and I tilted my head to give him full access to the sensitive skin above my collarbone. "If we're lucky, we might be able to leave my parents' house early - and that would give us more time to, you know, wait up for Santa Claus."

I felt Ranger's smile as he said, "And what will we be doing while we wait for Santa? Are we going to be … naughty … or nice?"

I pulled back and smiled slyly back at him. "It's not naughty … especially now that we're married."

All Ranger could say in reply to this was, of course, "Babe."

We were slightly ahead of schedule and we would have driven Ranger's black Turbo, but all of the gifts wouldn't fit into it. Besides, I really wanted Grandma Mazur to see my new car. Pushing aside all thoughts of Joe and his impending engagement, I became nervous with excitement as Ranger and I drove in to the Burg. Familiar sights greeted my eyes. Twinkle lights were everywhere, all the street lamps were decorated with garlands of fake greenery, and a variety of Nativity scenes and other festive lawn ornaments stood sentry in front of practically every house in the neighborhood.

Oddly, my mother and grandmother were _**not**_ waiting for us on the front porch when we parked my silver Cayenne at the curb. Usually, they could sense my presence in the vicinity and they came out to welcome me home. It really felt strange to walk up the steps to the empty porch by ourselves, with our arms full of brightly wrapped presents for everyone. I couldn't remember when I'd ever had to ring the doorbell of my parents' house.

"Helen, look who's here already – it's Stephanie and Ranger!" Grandma exclaimed when she opened the door. "Merry Christmas! You're early – come on in!" Then she peered past us and her eyes grew wide. "Holy moly! Stephanie, is that your new car? Your mother said that Ranger here gave it to you as a wedding present."

I smiled and nodded.

Grandma pushed past us, hurried down the steps and out to the Cayenne. She ran her hands along its side and exclaimed, "Wow! It looks just like that other one you've driven before, except this one is silver instead of black. Ain't that a pip?"

My mother had come to the door to greet us, but then she glanced beyond us and urged Grandma Mazur to come back inside. If it hadn't been so cold, I think she might have gone outside and looked at the car, too. Instead, she took some of the boxes out of my hands and ushered us into the house. Then she began placing the gifts under the sad little Christmas tree in the living room, where my father and Bruno Zelnich were watching the evening news. Both of the older men got up and greeted us with warm smiles, hugs and handshakes. I had noticed that my father rarely called my husband by his street name anymore and it was heartwarming to see that Bruno followed his lead.

"Carlos! Stephanie! It's so good to see you again!" Bruno said. Grandma had returned to the warm house and she snuggled up next to her new husband as he continued to speak. "Edna and I loved your Christmas card – it was perfect!" He gushed. "I wish I had been there at your wedding, but I'm thinking of hiring that photographer of yours to take some pictures of me and my sweetie when we get back home. He's really good!"

Ranger took a calling card out of his wallet and handed it to Bruno. "This is my cousin's contact information. He was the one who actually hired the photographer. Just tell Pedro how you're related to me and he'll put you in touch with the guy."

"Thank you," Bruno nodded and tucked the card into the pocket of his thick wool cardigan. "We're headed back to Florida in a few days and I'll look him up right away."

"Maybe we'll see you down there, too, after the New Year," I said and then I immediately realized my mistake when Ranger closed his eyes and my mother's eyebrows lifted nearly into her hairline. We hadn't planned on telling my parents about our plans to stay in Florida for a while until it was closer to the time for us to leave.

"You're going back to Miami so soon?" Mom asked.

"Uh … um … yes, Mom. Carlos and I … we're, um, going back to Florida … for a while," I stammered. "Not to Miami, though. We'll be in Tampa, this time."

My mother gasped. "Tampa? Isn't that on the other side of the state from Miami?"

"Yes, it is. We have to take care of some business over there, but we'll be in constant contact with our Miami offices," Ranger said reassuringly and he placed his hand on the small of my back to support me.

My mother glanced from Ranger to me to Grandma Mazur and then back to me before she lowered her voice and asked, "But how will you keep an eye on your grandmother if you're so far away?"

"I'm sure her _**husband**_ can handle that," Ranger answered smoothly. Then he escorted me into the dining room.

Surprisingly, Christmas Eve dinner was a relatively calm affair. Without Valerie's wild brood crowding the table, the six of us adults actually enjoyed a pleasant conversation. Grandma told us all about Bruno's children in the Boston area, with whom they had visited for the past month. I was sort of jealous to hear about all of their accomplishments. Bruno's two sons were investment bankers who had done very well over the years and they'd had the good fortune of pulling their substantial assets out of the volatile markets before the financial downturn. His two daughters were doctors with a very successful joint family practice.

My mother's blue eyes turned green with envy when she heard that Bruno had a total of twelve grandchildren so far, with two more on the way. All four of his children lived in their own large homes in very nice suburban neighborhoods. They all seemed to have stable first marriages, too. The Zelnich family made me and Valerie look like slackers, or even worse, like losers.

"You're not a loser," Ranger whispered into my ear while I nibbled at my dessert. Damn! How did he always know what I was thinking?

Honestly, I was happy for Grandma Mazur. She and Bruno seemed to fit together so well. My mother didn't seem to share my joy. She was moody and drank a lot of her favorite amber-colored liquid, even though there wasn't really anything to be upset about. When I tried to ask my father what might be bothering her, he only shook his head and pressed his lips together in hard line. After dinner, my mother placed all of the presents for Ranger and me into a large shopping bag, along with a few containers of leftovers, and we took them back to our apartment.

Ranger developed a sudden headache on the way back to Haywood Street. When we entered the living room, I immediately understood the cause of his pain. Our own big Christmas tree couldn't mask the familiar spicy fragrance of a particular friend. It was obvious that Diesel had been in our apartment – and since there weren't any surveillance cameras on the seventh floor – no one in the control room knew about our sly visitor.

Ranger stood very still for a moment and then he growled, "Next time I see Diesel, he's a dead man!"

"But he's my friend!" I protested.

"No one invades my privacy like this, Babe. No one!" Ranger's voice sounded calm, but deadly serious.

I just shook my head and said, "Oh, stop being so melodramatic! Look, Diesel left us a present!" And I went over to the sofa to retrieve it.

Ranger's eyes narrowed slightly and his mouth tightened into what passed for a grimace. Ignoring him, I picked up the crumpled silver gift bag and read the accompanying letter – scrawled on a large scrap of notebook paper - aloud. "Hey! Sorry I missed congratulating you two lovebirds in person, but we were in a rush. I thought I'd better drop this gift off now or else I'd have to leave it with the Easter Bunny to give it to you later. See you next time, Diesel. P.S. Ranger, you lucky bastard! You'd better treat Stephanie right – or else you're gonna get coal in your stocking 'til hell freezes over!" I glanced up at Ranger and said, "See? I told you he knows Santa!"

"Babe," he said and then he slumped down next to me onto the sofa.

Pushing aside the tissue paper, I peeked into the gift bag and grinned. Our Unmentionable friend had given us an obscenely expensive bottle of champagne, two pretty crystal glasses and a box of very fine Swiss chocolates. It was surprisingly romantic for the big lug. My grin grew wider. I always knew Diesel had a soft, romantic side! Someday, I hoped he would find a special someone who could put up with him and his antics.

Fortunately, Ranger was able to put aside his differences with Diesel and he seized the opportunity at hand. With a slight nod of his head, he agreed that we should save the champagne for New Year's Eve, but he watched with interest as I tore into the box of chocolates right away. As several of the smooth delicacies melted on my tongue, I moaned with pleasure. I had never tasted such fabulous candy! Of course, that sent Ranger over the edge and before I knew what had happened, we were making love next to the Christmas tree. I don't know if Santa saw us, but it was very, _**very**_ nice!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

"Merry Christmas, Babe," I said as I crossed the bedroom to give Stephanie a steaming mug of coffee.

Our lovemaking the previous evening had relaxed her so much that she had fallen asleep practically _**under**_ our Christmas tree. I'll never forget the vision of my Babe laying there like my own personal gift, already unwrapped and thoroughly loved. I hated waking her up at five-thirty in the morning on Christmas Day, but we were due to be on shift in less than ninety minutes. While Steph grumbled about her new lot in life as a part-owner of a round-the-clock security firm, I padded out of the bedroom and headed toward the kitchen in search of food. Ella and Louis had the day off, but we had plenty of provisions.

Seeing my Babe's face light up on Christmas morning after she saw all of the presents under and around the tree was one of the highlights of my year. The day prior to that had been somewhat difficult for Steph, especially since she'd had to brave the mall to catch Lula's skip, and Morelli told her about his engagement to Cal's cousin, Linda, and she'd witnessed her mother's unhappiness during our dinner in the Burg. I admit that I was grumpy after we discovered that Diesel had violated our personal space, but making love to my Babe afterward was well worth the hassle.

My first gift to Steph was private skydiving lessons. She wouldn't be able to take the accelerated free-fall classes until after our Tampa trip, but it was too cold in New Jersey now for her to jump out of a plane, anyway. I also gave her a set of her own identification tags – dog tags – just like the ones I wore around my neck when I jumped out of aircraft. My Babe hugged and kissed me so much that I gave up on trying to maintain my self-control. Another session of lovemaking under the Christmas tree became a "bonus gift" that we gave to each other that morning.

Afterward, we took a quick shower and then we wolfed down our breakfast of toasted bagels and slices of fruit while we opened the rest of our presents. Steph gave me a new Rolex watch with a diamond set into its face, as well as a lot of new clothes. She informed me that she really wanted me to wear something other than black, especially when we visited her family in the future. There were blue jeans and khaki slacks and sweaters and shirts of many styles and colors. My favorite item, though, happened to be a black T-shirt with a blue-flame batman logo emblazoned on it. It was very cool!

We had a lot of laughs as we opened our gifts from my men. Besides the embarrassing sex-toys, there were several T-shirts with logos on them. It was quite apparent that someone had tapped into the official U.S. Army Ranger store because the men gave me a skull-and-crossed-rifles shirt and they gave Stephanie an undershirt that read, "Property of an Army Ranger," as well as a long-sleeved T-shirt that read, "I love my Ranger." At least the men got the shirts right.

Lastly, I handed Stephanie a velvet box. This gift was one that I had considered ever since the days before we got married, from the moment we chose our fancy wedding bands. It was something I never had done before, but I felt the time – and my reasoning – was right. When my Babe opened the box, though, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Carlos, aren't these our … wedding bands?" she asked.

I nodded and replied, "Yes, they are. But they've been altered."

She gazed into my eyes and repeated, "Altered? What was wrong with them? I thought they were perfect."

"Nothing was wrong with them, Babe," I answered. "I just wanted them to have a special feature. I know how much you hate to be tracked everywhere, but I also know that you understand why I insist on such precautions. Now, we both will have the same ability to track each other's whereabouts."

"I don't understand," she admitted.

I lifted my wedding band from its satiny pillow and pointed at one of the diamonds. "Look right here. This particular diamond is no longer a sparkly gem; instead, it's a tiny GPS tracker _**disguised**_ as a diamond. There are two of them in each of our rings. I want us to wear these rings whenever we're on an assignment, so that someone within the RangeMan network will be able to locate us at all times."

Steph licked her lips and asked, "So … does this mean that now _**I**_ can track _**you**_ the way that _**you've**_ always tracked _**me**_?"

When I nodded my head, her eyes lit up and her wide grin gave me an unexpected thrill. I had thought that my Babe would like the idea of "keeping tabs" on me, but I didn't realize how much she would enjoy "turning the tables" on me. Life was about to become far more interesting, and perhaps a bit more complex, with this new arrangement, but I felt up to the task. Our moment was interrupted by a call from Tank. He was wondering if we planned to attend the morning briefing, so we quickly slipped the altered rings onto our fingers and hurried downstairs.

The holiday passed by slowly; even the criminals must have been taking a break. The only remotely exciting thing that happened was a frantic call from my old pal, Lew Pepper, the concert promoter. The singer, Brenda, had blown back into town and she threw the mother of all temper tantrums when she discovered that RangeMan wasn't providing the security detail for the final concert of her holiday tour. Lew was desperate, and despite our misgivings, Tank and I agreed to accept the short-notice assignment.

Brenda was in rare form these days. She had wrapped up a short season of her own moderately successful talk show and she'd just released a new album of holiday favorites – thus precipitating her most recent tour which was ending it's twelve-city run in Atlantic City on New Year's Eve. She couldn't hide her disappointment at seeing Stephanie again at the pre-concert meeting, especially after I re-introduced her as my new wife.

"Damn, Sugar Britches," Brenda crooned at me in her distinctively smoky Southern drawl, "I just _**knew**_ I was finally gonna get to sink my teeth into you and now I find out that you up'n got married since I left here!" Then she cut her eyes toward Steph and said "And to think, you – gorgeous hunk of manhood that you are – hooked up with _**this**_ poor excuse for a wom-"

I stopped her in mid-sentence with a cold glare and said, "Be very careful, Ma'am. My wife, Stephanie, is very precious to me. I will not tolerate any disrespect toward her. Not now, not ever."

"Good grief!" Brenda exclaimed with a husky laugh. "I didn't know y'all were so sensitive. But don't you worry your pretty little heads; I love men of all shapes and sizes, but I don't hardly mess around with married men, honey. There's _**way**_ too much trouble in that!"

Steph rolled her eyes at Brenda's declaration, but it was good to hear that the notoriously frisky singer had at least a few scruples. One of the perks about working the security detail for Brenda was that Lew paid both a hefty price for RangeMan's services _**and**_ he gave everyone complimentary tickets for each member of our crew to bring a guest to the hotel's New Year's Eve concert and gala celebration. My Babe and I promptly packaged our tickets in a nice envelope and gave them to her parents as late Christmas gifts and I even threw in a reservation for the Plums to stay overnight at the hotel.

Frank and Helen Plum seemed to be thrilled at the idea of attending such a fancy event, especially since Stephanie's grandmother and her new husband had traveled back to Florida two days after Christmas. Frank insisted that tuxedo he had worn to both of his daughters' first weddings would be suitable for their New Year's Eve date, but Steph took her mother shopping for a new outfit. When my Babe returned to the apartment, she was visibly upset.

"I don't know what's wrong with my mother!" Steph fumed. "I'm finally married to a wonderful man, living in a totally safe environment, and financially stable, but she only wants to talk about me giving her more grandchildren. We just got married, for heaven's sake! And it's none of her business anyway! Aagh! I can't take much more of this!" Then she burst into tears.

My own heart ached for our situation, especially since it was mostly my fault. I wrapped my arms around Steph, rubbed her back and said, "Babe." We stood there in the kitchen for a few moments until her sobs became sniffles and then I continued, "Don't worry about your mother. There's a time and a season for everything. It's not time for us to be parents. I'm sorry."

She hiccupped and replied, "Why are _**you**_ sorry? It's not your fault my mother is being a complete nag about this!"

I tilted her tear-stained face up toward mine and gazed deeply into her blue eyes. "Steph, we both know that it _**is**_ my fault we can't have children right now."

"Carlos, we also know that I'm not ready for one child - let alone child_**ren**_ - yet, but that's _**still**_ none of her business," Steph insisted. "Why can't my mother just be happy for me – or even happy with me, for a change?"

I didn't have a good answer to that question so I sighed and said, "Why don't we sit down and have some dinner? I know that'll help you feel better. And there's even Tres Leches cake for dessert."

"Mmm," Steph smiled weakly up at me and nodded. "What happened to Mr. Just-say-no-to desserts? You're spoiling me, you know. And something else in here smells real good, too."

I led her over to the counter and lifted the lid off of the crock pot. "Ella made us some Ropa Vieja. I think she's trying to find out whether we like her recipe better than Rosie's, so be very careful - and diplomatic - with your compliments. We don't want to cause a rift in their friendship."

This got a genuine smile out of my Babe and she asked, "Are they really so competitive?"

"You have no idea," I replied as I ladled the fragrant stew and some rice into two bowls and set them on the dining room table. "It's mostly in good fun, but I think Ella is becoming worried that you and I might decide to stay down in Florida. Trust me; Ella hates the idea of losing us to Rosie's tender loving care. The way things are going right now, though, I think we'll need to make a longer stop in Miami than we had originally planned before heading on to Tampa."

Steph stared at me for a moment before she spoke again, "Ranger, _**are**_ we considering a more … permanent move to Florida?"

I shrugged. "It's a possibility." Then I looked directly into Steph's bright blue eyes and announced, "I got a call from Julie today, Babe. She … she needs our help."

* * *

**A/N: Phew! Hopefully, I'll be able to update again sooner rather than later. Again, I apologize for the long delay, but now that I've passed my teaching recertification courses, I should have a tiny bit more free time to type up the rest of the story and post it. Thank you so much for not giving up on me! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thanks! :) **


	36. Chapter 36

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: Thank goodness it's the Thanksgiving weekend! I'm extremely grateful for the time off. Now that I've been recertified as an instructor/trainer, more opportunities to teach more classes have been coming my way. It's been great, but tiring, and I can't seem to stay on top of my updates. Nevertheless, I **_**will**_** finish posting this story before the end of this calendar year. I'm glad that most of you really liked the previous chapter, even though I ended it with a slight cliffhanger. And thanks again to everyone who took the time to let me know what you think of my writing. Enjoy! **

* * *

"_Have you called your mom?" I asked Julie._

"_Yes. I just got off the phone with her. She was really happy that I was okay. Her and my dad are going to fly up here and get me. She said she wasn't putting me on a plane alone. And she told Tank that he wasn't to let me out of his sight." Julie grinned. "She's a little overprotective."_

_Twelve Sharp_

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 36: Frequent Flyers, Part 2**

**Stephanie's POV**

When Ranger first informed me that his daughter, Julie, was in some sort of trouble and needed our help, I was afraid that something bad had happened – again. Fortunately, it wasn't a life-or-death situation. In fact, Julie was doing quite well – all things considered. Ranger had arranged for her to see a child psychiatrist to help her deal with recurring nightmares about Edward Scrog, the insane man who had kidnapped the girl over a year ago. Julie had made tremendous progress, but apparently Rachel had become more and more protective of the girl and barely let her out of her sight now.

"Julie won an award for an essay she wrote in school," Ranger explained to me after we finished our dinner. "The awards ceremony took place in Tallahassee, at the state capitol last week, but Rachel wouldn't allow Julie to go because she feared for her safety."

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed softly as I followed him into the living room. "Julie must have been so disappointed."

"She was," Ranger nodded and pulled me onto his lap when he sat down on the sofa. "But it's part of a disturbing pattern. The last time I talked to Ron Martine, he said it's like Rachel has gone over the edge. She ferries Julie and the other kids to and from school every day and they're only allowed to play in their own backyard where she can keep an eye on them. Julie is allowed to have friends visit at the Martine's house, but Rachel won't let her go over to anyone else's house – not even to her best friend's home, which is only two doors down."

"Whoa!" I said. "That sounds serious."

Ranger had turned on the stereo and the sounds of light jazz filled the air. He kissed the back of my neck and then began to knead the tight muscles of my neck and shoulders. I think I might have started to purr in contentment. It was difficult to focus on Ranger's words, but I made more of an effort to pay attention to what he was saying.

"It gets even worse," Ranger continued. "The Martine kids have played soccer in their community's youth leagues for several years, but Rachel wouldn't sign up Julie or her half-siblings for it this year. She gave them some lame excuses about not liking the league's coaches anymore, but Ron told me it's really about the lack of security on the playing fields."

"Can't Ron help Rachel see that she's being way overprotective?" I asked.

Applying slight pressure to get me to lean forward a bit, Ranger worked his magic fingertips down the length of my back. "He's trying. Julie said she heard them arguing about whether or not she would have been safe travelling to the awards ceremony in Tallahassee with a full contingent of RangeMan guards. Unfortunately, Rachel wouldn't even discuss asking me for such a thing."

"Geez," I said. "_**I'd**_ feel safe with a bunch of Merry Men escorting me anywhere."

I could feel Ranger's smile as he said, "Babe."

"Seriously, Carlos," I said, "I don't understand Rachel's objections."

"Unfortunately, I do," Ranger grumbled. "It's _**my**_ fault. That bad business with Scrog exposed Julie to incomprehensible danger. It also exposed the Martine family to intense public scrutiny. Rachel feels that everyone knows far too much about them now."

I thought about this. "Well," I said, "Your names, photos and life stories _**were**_ plastered all over the news for a while. I guess I'd feel a little over-exposed, too."

Ranger blew out a sigh. "Rachel's afraid that there are other crazies out there waiting to attack anyone connected with me. She's really angry at me, but she's been taking out her frustrations with me on the rest of her family. When Julie called me, she reported that the younger kids are beginning to blame _**her**_ for their current lack of freedom. Right now, the whole Martine family is miserable. It's not a healthy situation. Of course, Ron is trying to keep the peace, but it's not going very well."

Somehow, while he'd been talking, Ranger had unfastened my bra and his warm hands slid under my fuzzy knit top to rub my back … and other places. The man truly was a wizard, I thought. My eyes glazed over and I heard myself moan. Ranger chuckled low and kissed the back of my neck again.

"Maybe Rachel should see a counselor, too," I murmured. "The way things are going, we're _**all**_ going to be seeing shrinks next year, anyway."

"I've spoken to Rachel a few times already, but she's in denial about her behavior," Ranger replied. "Ron was able to convince her to go to a few sessions with a counselor who was recommended by Julie's therapist, but she decided that she can handle things better on her own. The kicker is that Rachel insists she's becoming _**less**_ overprotective."

Truthfully, I could relate. Denial is second nature to me. I'd hate to see what Julie's life would be like if Rachel hadn't seen a counselor at all, though. The poor girl would probably be locked into a tower like Rapunzel or some other fairytale princess. I shuddered at the thought.

Ranger's hands stopped for a moment and he asked, "Are you cold, Babe?"

"No; quite the opposite," I admitted. "You know you make me feel warm all over."

He gently kissed the back of my neck and continued to speak, "Ron also told me that Rachel is talking about home-schooling the kids so that she won't have to worry about what could happen to Julie if someone else tries to get at me through her."

"That would be horrible!" I exclaimed and I wondered where Ranger's hands were headed next. "I mean, if their neighborhood schools weren't very good or if there were religious reasons for Rachel to home-school her kids, then I could see her point. But to do it in a misguided attempt to keep Julie safe just doesn't seem right."

"I know," Ranger nodded, his hands still resting at the bottom of my ribcage. "That's why Julie called me. She wants me to talk some sense back into her mom - in person. Dr. O'Neill gave me the names of a few family counselors in Miami who specialize in PTSD cases and I hope to convince Rachel to see one of them ASAP. I've never meddled so closely in the Martine's personal business - or Julie's upbringing - before this. I'm not sure that the outcome will be ... pleasant."

I considered this for a moment before I spoke again. "Carlos, you once told me that Rachel and Ron are good parents. It sounds like they're just going through a rough patch in the aftermath of the whole Scrog incident. I guess I'd probably be a little spooked, too, if my daughter was snatched away from me. I'm sure that Ron just wants Rachel to feel safe and secure."

"A year ago, just after Julie went back to Florida, I offered to pay for Ron and Rachel to relocate to a gated community, but they declined," Ranger said tiredly and he leaned back to stretch out along the length of the sofa. He arranged my body on top of his so that his hands could roam more freely over the front of my body and then he continued to speak. "Regardless of the safety issues, Rachel doesn't want to live in a place where her neighbors would look down their noses at her and her family."

"Do you really think that's what would happen if they moved?" I asked, knowing full well that people could be quite snobby.

Ranger sighed again and his fingertips began to drift upward in lazy circles on my skin. "It's because Ron works at a blue-collar job. Right now, they live comfortably in a middle class neighborhood, where most of their neighbors have similar jobs and interests. Admittedly, the places I recommended were a bit more upscale and it would be sort of like when I moved from Newark to Coral Gables."

My breath hitched in my throat when Ranger's hands reached their obvious targets, but I managed to squeak, "H-how so?" I was always intrigued to learn more about my Man of Mystery's younger days.

Ranger shifted again and turned both of us over until I was beneath him, gazing up into his eyes. Wizard that he was, he quickly removed his own shirt after divesting me of mine. After a few more moments of kissing, he supported his body above me and explained, "At first I just kept my mouth shut so that the kids wouldn't make fun of my Jersey accent, but then I realized that there were things – upper class things - that they knew about and I didn't. It took a while for me to feel comfortable in my grandparent's world. Fortunately, I had my cousin, Val, to help me navigate through it all. Rachel doesn't want that kind of hassle for either herself or her kids. Nevertheless, it's time for me to help my daughter - and the sooner, the better." Then he lowered his lips to my body and continued to kiss every sensitive place between my neck and my bellybutton.

"S-so … w-when will we l-leave?" I stuttered as his sensual assault melted me to the core.

"I was thinking about leaving … the day after our New Year's Eve job for Brenda," Ranger replied in between his kisses. "We could stay in Miami a for few days, talk things over with Rachel and Julie, and then head over to Tampa - if that's okay with you, of course."

"Of … course," I moaned softly. I nearly forgot my own name as his hands and lips continued to work their magic on my body.

"Babe," Ranger murmured appreciatively.

Suddenly, I stiffened as my brain finally clicked back on. "Wait!" I exclaimed. "That's … that's New Year's Day! Do you know how much it'll cost on to fly on that date?" I knew it was expensive because Valerie always complained about the high cost of holiday travel when she still lived out in California.

"Not an issue here," Ranger glanced up and replied. "My Uncle Diego offered us a ride on the company plane. We'll have to make one stop in North Carolina to pick up my Tío Lucas, who was visiting there with his wife's side of the family for the holidays, as well as some business associates who are accompanying them to a big meeting in Miami with my Tío Riva."

"Tío Riva?" I repeated. "That's your cousin, Val's dad, right?"

Ranger smiled at me. "Yes, he's the CEO of Suarez Enterprises. Believe me, Babe; he likes to travel in style. Wait 'til you see the company plane; it's actually a Boeing Business Jet and it's fully loaded. Unlike Papí, all of my uncles love to travel by plane. Uncle Diego and Tío Lucas just returned from a trip to Germany to check out the latest models of Mercedes and BMWs. That's why we can hitch a ride with them now."

"Oh. Okay, then I guess it's … all … set," I heard myself say, even though a small, sane corner of my brain protested.

What was I thinking? This new development meant that we'd be leaving for Miami in less than three days! Screw it, I thought, as I arched upward to help Ranger remove the rest of my clothes. The way I felt at that moment, I would have agree to _**anything**_ my Batman asked of me. I just wanted him to finish what he had started; which, of course, he did with great Bat-style.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Ranger's POV**

Yes, it was rather sneaky of me to use "sofa therapy" to convince my Babe to leave for Florida earlier than we originally had planned, but she certainly didn't complain. Besides, Ella did most of the packing for our trip, anyway. This saved us quite a bit of time; however, it also meant that Stephanie had to say her farewells before we went to the casino complex to join the rest of the RangeMan security team for Brenda's concert.

Tank took the concert security team out to Atlantic City the day before the event to get everything set up in advance, while Stephanie and I stayed in Trenton an extra day to finish up some last-minute paperwork. As I had said, my Uncle Diego had arranged for the Súarez Enterprises executive jet to pick us up in Atlantic City and take us to Miami on New Year's Day. I knew that my Babe would be totally surprised when we boarded the aircraft, especially since I had big plans for solidifying our membership in the "Mile-High Club" by the time we landed in Florida.

Truthfully, I wasn't looking forward to the concert security job. It was a time-sucking nuisance, but business is business and Brenda's manager had already deposited a large amount of money into my corporate bank account. Although this was supposed to be my last official RangeMan mission for a while, I was glad when Tank offered to take the early crew out to the casino to complete the set up with the hotel's regular security force. Lula insisted on going with him, and that actually turned out to be for the best. Apparently, Brenda really liked Lula and, strangely enough, Lula had no problem keeping the singer out of trouble.

Stephanie joined Lula as soon as we arrived at the venue, and the three women seemed to have a great time swapping stories and telling tales while we all waited for the concert. Brenda's assigned handler from the entertainment company welcomed the diversions and asked if RangeMan would consider a continuing contract with them. As much as I like making money, I declined the opportunity. We had gotten lucky this time, since the mob basically ignored us on this mission. I knew that if we had a regular security contract, we'd have to pay the "regular fees" and it wouldn't be healthy to have such a close relationship with those guys.

While Steph spent time with the other ladies, I checked us into our hotel rooms and made sure that everything was set up the way I wanted. When I had reserved the rooms, I made sure that the Plum's room was located on the same floor as our room – just at the opposite end of the hallway. I also made sure that Tank and Lula's room was on a completely different floor of the hotel from us. I'm not stupid.

After a late lunch with the whole crew, Brenda went to her suite of rooms to take a nap in preparation for the evening concert. I took that opportunity to go over the final plans with Tank and then I ushered Steph up to our room. We made sweet love to one another until it time to get ready to go back downstairs. As soon as we had showered and dressed, Steph called her parents' cell phone to find out if their experience at the hotel was going smoothly. It was. Then she called Lula to find out if she and Tank were ready to go downstairs. They were. Finally, Steph called Ella to find out if her hamster, Rex, was all right. He was.

"Babe," I said, shaking my head.

She smiled sheepishly at me and admitted, "I know. I know. Everything is fine. It's just that … well … I have that certain feeling again. You know; the one I get when something feels a little … off."

"Your 'spidey senses' are kicking in, huh?" I remarked.

She nodded and said, "Yup, they are. And I know better than to just ignore them."

Now I nodded and gazed at her. She was right, of course; something _**didn't**_ feel quite right. I had sensed it, too, but I figured it had more to do with the fact that working with Brenda was such a pain in the ass than anything else. I called down to the singer's suite and silently breathed a sigh of relief when her handler assured me that everything was going according to the schedule. Brenda was clamoring for her two new best gal pals – Lula and Steph – to "get their asses down there pronto," but she was behaving as well as could be expected so far. Steph and I met Tank and Lula at the elevator and then we all went to our assigned places.

Amazingly – and despite our misgivings - the concert went off without a hitch. Lula and Stephanie had done a great job of limiting Brenda's pre-concert alcohol intake. The singer was in good spirits, but not drunk, and the crowd really seemed to have a great time with her raunchy, but good-natured banter between the song sets. Just before midnight, Brenda encouraged everyone to find someone to kiss and I made sure that my Babe was secure in my embrace. It was the best New Years' kiss of my life!

The singer surprised her guitarist with a full-tongued kiss and then launched into an upbeat version of the traditional song, "Auld Lang Syne." Confetti rained downed on both the stage and the audience as Brenda finished her final set of the evening. RangeMan's security obligations wouldn't be finished until the singer boarded her flight back to Las Vegas the next day, but Tank was fully in charge. Steph and I were done for the night.

After the concert, we slipped out into the audience and joined the Plums at their table. They introduced us to the other two couples who shared their table and we all wished each other a Happy New Year. It quickly became clear that Steph's parents and their new friends had consumed quite a few celebratory beverages during the concert and afterward. Even so, everything was fine until Frank and Ellen began to thank us profusely for both their tickets to the show and their fantastic afternoon enjoying the wonderful hotel accommodations.

"The fresh fruit and floral arrangement was so beautiful!" Helen Plum gushed at her daughter.

"You're such a good daughter," said one of the other women at the table. "I was telling your mother here that neither my son nor my daughter has _**ever**_ done something so nice for me."

Helen actually blushed and said, "Oh! And that bottle of champagne on ice was just so … so very _**nice**_!" For the first time, I noticed a sparkle in Helen's blue eyes and I suddenly saw the resemblance between Steph and her mother. It was almost … shocking.

Frank Plum was smiling, too, as he added, "Yep, there's nothing like a big bottle of bubbly to move things in the right direction – if you know what I mean." And then his elbow jabbed me in my ribs. Another shock!

I silently guessed what had put the sparkle in Helen's eyes and then I struggled not to smile at my sudden insight. Perhaps this new development was what had given Steph her feeling that there had been a "disturbance in the force" earlier in the evening. Unfortunately, I didn't think that the Plum's rekindled intimacy was what had caused me to have my "bad feeling," especially because I _**still**_ felt that something wasn't quite right in our little corner of the world.

Stephanie slid a sideways glance at me and I winked at her. My Babe hadn't known about _**all**_ of the special arrangements I had made for her parents' little hotel get-away. In addition to the fruit and flowers and champagne, I had instructed – and paid for - the hotel staff to meet every need of the guests who were staying in Room 1111, to include room service meals, a spa treatment for the wife and a thousand dollars worth of casino chips for the husband. I really wanted to overwhelm Steph's parents and help them understand that their daughter was now in my very capable hands. Okay, so maybe I was buying them off just a little, but from the looks on the Plums' faces, my strategy was working quite well.

The hotel had hired a DJ to cover the rest of the night after Brenda's concert, and the party was still in full swing. The older couples convinced Steph and me to join them for a few dances. Although I desperately wanted to take my Babe back up to our room and do some "horizontal dancing," I figured that we'd be far away from her family for the next few months and I'd have her all to myself. So, we stayed and danced for a while.

Surprisingly, the Plums danced very well together. I even grinned when I realized that we sort-of matched Steph's parents. Frank and I both had on black tuxedos. Of course, his was an older, generic one and mine was, well, an Armani, but he looked pretty good. My Babe was wearing a sparkly silver top under her short black bolero jacket and her long black skirt had a fringe of silver beads all along its hemline. Helen Plum was wearing a long dress made of sparkly silver material and a black velvet bolero jacket with silver embroidery on the lapel. I noticed that the older woman's figure was still very nice. I liked what that meant for my Babe's future. You know what they say about women looking like their mothers over time.

It was already three hours into the new year and although we were having a fairly good time, I could barely wait to take my Babe back up to our room, strip off all of our fancy clothes and climb into bed with her. My frustrations finally got the best of me, so I made our apologies and we bid everyone a good night. Steph obviously felt the same way because be both nearly ran to the elevators and stood there impatiently until one arrived to ferry us upstairs.

Once we were in the elevator, I pulled my Babe into a tight embrace and kissed her senseless. Pulling the hairpins from her upswept curls, I ran my fingers through the thick tresses to loosen them around her shoulders. Then I nuzzled her neck and slid her jacket off of her creamy white shoulders. I was about to go further when the elevator reached our floor and the doors slid open. To my utter surprise and horror, two goons with guns raised and pointed at us were standing there to greet us.

**"Hand over your wife right now, Mr. Mañoso,"** one of the men growled in Spanish, **"or else we'll have to-"**

But I didn't finish hearing what he had to say because I quickly pushed Steph to the ground, pulled out my own weapon and lunged for the elevator buttons. The distinctive pings of bullets ricocheting off the metal doors alerted me to the fact that, whoever these new enemies were, there were morons. When I kneeled down next to Steph, she assured me that she was fine and I held her in my arms for a moment before we both stood up. Then I quickly called Tank on my cell phone to alert him to the situation, as well as to request that he meet us in the basement.

"Got 'em on the monitor," said Tank, who happened to be passing by the hotel's security office on the first floor when I called. "We can see those losers now; they're in the elevator next to yours. Our guys'll be waiting for them when they come out. The police are on their way. See you in a minute." And he disconnected.

"W-what was that about?" Steph asked. "What did those guys want?"

I shook my head, not wanting to translate for her. "It was an attempted kidnapping. I don't know who they're working for or why they wanted you, Babe, but we're going to find out very soon."

When we got to the basement, I asked Steph to go with Brett and to stay put in one of RangeMan SUVs. After a moment's hesitation, she acquiesced to my serious glare and went with him. Once I was sure that my Babe was safe, I joined Tank behind the thick cement columns and we waited for the elevator doors to open. As soon as the goons stepped out, my men grabbed them from behind and easily disarmed them, holding their arms behind their backs.

**"Who are you?"** I demanded in Spanish. **"Who sent you?"**

The taller of the two men shot a warning glare at his partner, but when Hal pulled the guy into a tight headlock, he lost his nerve.

"S-S-Señor Galarza," he stammered. Glancing between me and Tank, the man's wide eyes showed that he was scared witless. He continued to speak in Spanish, **"W-w-we were supposed to grab your wife, take her back to the boat. He was going to hold her captive until he decided how much ransom to ask for."**

**"Shut up, you stupid oaf!"** growled the taller goon. **"I _**told**_ you not to shoot, or else others would know that we are here. But did you listen to me? No!"**

Ram cut off the man's air supply for a moment, which immediately silenced him. I stepped closer to the scared man and asked why he was trying to kidnap my wife. He whimpered a bit and then he answered in quivery voice.

**"Mr. Galarza said you … you have to pay for Tommy's death,"** the shorter man said in Spanish.

The other thug wriggled loose for a second and yelled, **"You'd better shut up now before I kill you myself!"**

"Control him!" I ordered Ram, who then stuffed a rag into the man's mouth and tightened his grip on the man's arms behind his back.

**"P-p-please,"** the shorter man pleaded, **"I-I-I d-don't want t-to die!"**

**"Tell me; how were you supposed to contact your employer once you had my wife in your possession?"** I asked.

**"He gave us a special number to call,"** the man replied in a defeated tone of voice. **"It's already programmed into our phones."**

I nodded at Hal and Ram and they dug through the men's pockets until they found their cell phones. I picked one and flipped it open.

**"Where are you?"** demanded the voice on the other end of the line. **"Do you have her yet?"**

"Sí," I replied, imitating the higher pitch of our captive's voice.

The disembodied voice barked, **"Well? What are you idiots waiting for? Bring the witch here to me!"** And then he abruptly disconnected.

Two things suddenly occurred to me. The first thing was that the voice on the other end didn't sound like the senior Roberto Galarza at all. The world-famous record producer was well-known for his deep and melodious bass voice. He had been a club singer in his younger days, before he worked his way up into the management side of the music industry. The second thing was that I'd bet anything we were dealing with the younger Roberto Galarza, our deceased FTA's "distraught" brother.

My cousin, Gonzo, had informed me that a local judge recently threw out a wrongful death civil suit against RangeMan of Miami over Tommy Galarza's death. Somehow, the Galarza family had discovered that our company provided security at Val's nightclub. According to the lawsuit, several witnesses had been willing to testify that some gay-bashing thugs had attacked Tommy before the security team was able to turn him over to federal custody.

Interestingly, none of the "witnesses," except for Roberto Galarza, Junior, had showed up at the judge's hearing. Of course, our lawyer was on top of it and presented all of the official documents, including the statements from Stephanie, me and the other men who were directly involved in the apprehension and transfer of the fugitive Tommy Galarza. The lawsuit was dismissed due to lack of supporting evidence, but that's probably where Roberto Galarza learned of our names. Unfortunately, my Babe and I were too easy to find.

Part of me wanted to go down to the marina, find the Galarza's yacht and kick Roberto, Jr.'s worthless, doped-up ass all the way back to Puerto Rico. Sadly, I didn't think that his father would thank me for thwarting the young man's plans. After all, our names would always be tied to his other worthless son's death. The other part of me was sick and tired of all this crap. Stephanie and I had endured enough of the crazies and psychos. We needed to get away – ASAP.

Turning to Tank, I said in French this time – to confuse the enemy, **"I'm done here. Turn this mess over to the police. They can take our statements in the morning before Steph and I get on the airplane."** It had been a while since I'd used a third language, but I was pretty sure I had said all the right words.

Tank smiled at me and replied in French, **"But of course, my friend. We'll take care of everything. _**You**_ take care of your lovely wife. Happy New Year!"**

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered as I walked over to the SUV where my Babe's curious face was peering through the window. Then I turned back to Tank and said, "Happy New Year to you, too!"

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Stephanie's POV**

New Year's Day didn't start out exactly as I had hoped it would. First of all, even though Ranger was very sweet about it, he still woke me up at the crack of dawn so that we could give our statements to the Atlantic City Police. The officers who came to the hotel to take our statements got a real kick out of interviewing the "infamous Bombshell Bounty Hunter" in person. One guy even asked for my autograph after we had completed our official business. I could feel Ranger tense up at the odd request, but I just sighed and signed a napkin. Really, at this point, all I wanted was another cup of coffee.

Breakfast with my parents wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. My mother had _**never**_ been this mellow around me and Ranger before. In fact, she didn't even ask me again if we were going to try to get pregnant during our stay in Florida. And I'd never seen my father grinning so much. Apparently, an overnight stay at a swanky hotel – away from all the craziness of Grandma Mazur and Valerie and Albert and their brood - was something my parents should have done a long time ago. Who knew?

"Be sure to write," Mom urged as we said our farewells. "It would be nice to get at least a post card from you two."

My dad hugged me tight and whispered in my ear, "You married well, Stephanie. I hope you and Carlos have a good time down there with each other. You deserve it."

I tried not to let loose the tears which suddenly stung my eyes as Tank and Lula drove us away toward the Atlantic City Airport. Ranger and I hadn't told my parents about the attempted kidnapping, nor had we admitted to having any involvement with the rumors of gunshots being fired within the hotel. It felt as though we – my parents and me, that is - were moving into new territory. If _**they**_ didn't' ask, _**I**_ wouldn't tell. Sometimes, ignorance truly _**was**_ bliss, and I think we all had decided to be as happy as possible.

Although I've never been a real fan of flying in airplanes, I must admit that the more times Ranger and I traveled together, the better I was becoming at dealing with my irrational fears. Besides, after the New Year's Eve adventures that we'd had, very little about flying through the air inside of a glorified tin can attached to wings with jet engines should frighten me, right? Nevertheless, the flight from New Jersey to Florida was the most fantastic – and unique – yet. Trust me when I say that the Súarez family _**knows**_ how to live well, whether on land or sea or up in the air.

When we walked out to the lone aircraft sitting on a sparsely-populated part of the tarmac, a man emerged from the door at the top of the stairs and greeted us with an exuberant, "Happy New Year, Carlos and Stephanie! I'm so glad you could join us today!"

"It's good to see you, too, Uncle Diego," Ranger said to the dark-eyed man. "Thanks for letting us tag along with you."

Uncle Diego shook his head and said, "No problem! Besides, if this opportunity hadn't come up so soon, who knows when I would have met your lovely bride?"

Even at the age of sixty, Diego Suarez; youngest son of Blanca and Ricardo Suarez, exuded the charm and sex appeal of a man half his age. Luckily, Ranger's mother had showed me lots of photographs, so I was somewhat prepared. There was just something about the men in Ranger's family. Tall, dark and handsome only scratched the surface of describing them. It was exciting – and scary. I felt my face grow warm as I climbed the stairs and Uncle Diego stared down at me with a big grin on his face. When I reached the top, he took my hand and pressed it to his lips in a way that sent a tingle down my spine.

"So _**this**_ is the marvelous Stephanie Plum!" Diego said when he released my hand. I noticed the touches of silver at his temples and the deep laugh lines at the sides of his eyes and mouth as he continued to speak, "I've heard so much about you, from so many different members of my extended family. Even the staff down at my Point Pleasant condo spoke highly of you. I must confess to being extremely curious - and anxious - to meet the woman who finally snagged my nephew here."

Embarrassed, I replied, "I'm sure the stories have been exaggerated. And I'm pleased to meet you, too."

"May we board now, Uncle?" Ranger asked, sounding just a tiny bit annoyed. "I thought you said you have a fairly tight schedule."

The corner of Diego's salt-and-pepper mustache lifted and there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he replied, "Of course. Everything is ready, Carlos, just as you requested. We'll take off into the friendly skies as soon as you and Stephanie settle in. Once we get to our cruising altitude, you'll be free to … ah, move about the aircraft."

I grew suspicious at the hesitation in Uncle Diego's voice, as well as his choice of words, but all of those thoughts flew out of my head as soon as we went through the doorway and entered the aircraft. It was almost like being on the _Batcave_ yacht again. Everything screamed, "Luxury!" The soft leather seats looked like regular reclining chairs and they were arranged in some sort of lounge configuration, complete with a sectional sofa and plush carpeting. There were even vases of fresh flowers on the low tables in between the various seats. Beyond the lounge was a small dining area with a television built right into the partition wall.

A tall, blonde woman greeted us, "Welcome aboard, Mr. and Mrs. Mañoso. Mr. Súarez told us that you two are newly married. Congratulations and Happy New Year! My name is Ilsa Gordon. My husband, Carl, is the pilot, his brother, Gregory, is the first co-pilot and I am your flight attendant for today's trip. Please allow me to show you to your seats." Her accent seemed to be Northern European and she was gorgeous.

"Obviously, I've been flying on the wrong airlines all my life," I quipped as I followed the woman into the plane.

Uncle Diego chuckled and explained, "Yes, well I must admit that Súarez Enterprises is a rather exclusive airline. In fact, my oldest brother Riva usually keeps it the company plane to himself, but he sent me and another brother, Lucas, to Europe last month. Now we are returning the aircraft to him in Miami, but we are most delighted to have you and our nephew along for this very _**special**_ journey."

Again, I had the feeling that he and Ranger were keeping secrets from me, but it was time for us to get going and I wasn't really in the mood to pursue my hunch. Ilsa escorted Ranger and me to seats next to each other and we buckled ourselves in. She explained that she would return after we were in the air and then she disappeared behind a door I assumed led to the cockpit. When Uncle Diego followed Ilsa and left us alone, Ranger explained that his mother's youngest brother also happened to be one of the co-pilots.

"Uncle Diego likes adventures," Ranger said. "He took private flying lessons as soon as he was wealthy enough to do so. Tío Riva indulges him from time to time, but he's only allowed to co-pilot on short trips. The Gordon brothers are the professional pilots who handle most of the flights."

"And I suppose that _**Ilsa**_ is part of a package deal?" I asked cattily.

"Babe," Ranger sounded amused. "You heard her say that her _**husband**_ is the pilot, didn't you? Tío Riva was very lucky when he hired this trio away from Lufthansa Airlines several years ago. There are other crew members who also work for Suarez Enterprises, but with so few passengers on today's flights, I'm sure they all got the day off."

"How nice for them," I murmured, trying not to focus on the fact that the aircraft was speeding down the runway. Then, deciding to change the subject, I asked, "Why do you use Spanish titles for some of your relatives and English titles for others?" I asked,

Ranger reassuringly intertwined his fingers with my fingers and smiled at me. "I guess it's always been a matter of _**their**_ choices," he replied. "My parents, Uncle Diego, and my Grandma Rosa all prefer their English titles. Most of the others prefer Spanish. It's complicated, but you'll get the hang of it soon enough. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine."

I tensed up when I sensed that we were rapidly climbing into the air, but Ranger pulled my hand over to his chest and he simply reminded me to breathe. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to relax. I wasn't quite ready to _**enjoy**_ the experience, but I felt that I was doing much better than ever before. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, but when I finally opened my eyes, Ranger was gazing at me with such intensity that I knew something was up.

"W-what's the m-matter?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him and asked, "Then why are you looking at me that way?"

A slow grin spread across his face and he raised my fingertips to his lips. "It's time," he said and he unbuckled both of our seatbelts.

"T-time f-for what?" I stammered.

"You'll see," Ranger said as he lifted me to my feet, swept me up into his arms, and then carried through the dining area toward a door at the back of the aircraft.

When Ranger pushed open the door and carried me across the threshold of the doorway, I gasped in astonishment. It was a bedroom! There was a queen-sized bed against one wall of the airplane and highly polished wood furnishings throughout the rest of the well-appointed compartment. Whereas the jet's lounge and dining room were decorated in neutral beiges with brown and red accents, royal blue was the main color in the bedroom and its adjoining bathroom. Again, I was amazed by the sheer luxury of everything.

"I know you've heard rumors about the "Mile-High Club," Babe," Ranger said as he gently placed me onto the bed. His grin had turned hungry and there was no doubt about what was going to happen next. "Today we're going to join that club," he proclaimed, "and it's going to be good."

Boy-o-boy was it ever good! At first, I admit that I was a bit apprehensive. I mean, what if we hit turbulence while we were in the middle of, well, you know? Ranger assured me that the clear weather conditions practically guaranteed us a smooth flight to North Carolina. He also told me that neither Uncle Diego nor any of the other members of the crew would bother us during this time. There would be more passengers on the trip from Carolina down to Florida, but since we were the only ones back here now, we didn't have to worry about how much noise we made.

Ranger was quick the first time we made love, but he went at a more leisurely pace the second time around. All I knew was that this was like no other flight I'd ever taken before. Afterward, we showered in the very nice, fully-stocked bathroom which was connected to the bedroom. Our luggage had been stored in the bedroom's closets, so we had everything we needed to emerge from our "love nest" looking fresh and neat. Honestly, it felt like we were in a fancy hotel - not onboard an airplane. Only the constant hum and vibrations from the jet's engines reminded me that we were high up in the sky. Who knew flying could be such fun?

Ilsa awaited us in the dining area when we walked out of the bedroom and through the lounge. She had set the table with a light snack of fresh fruit and cheeses, as well as delicate-looking crackers, all of which were displayed on fine china plates. The flatware appeared to be real silver, as did the pitchers of ice water and fruit juice in the center of the table. The television was tuned to one of the twenty-four-hour news stations, but I wondered if Ilsa had heard any of the noises Ranger and I had made while we were in the bedroom. We sat down to eat and Uncle Diego slid through the cockpit door to join us.

"Mission accomplished?" Uncle Diego asked Ranger in a sly tone of voice.

Ranger merely grinned at me and nodded his head once. Uncle Diego slid what appeared to be a piece of parchment across the table toward us. It was a "certificate" indicating the date and approximate location of what had just transpired and verified our new status as members of the "Mile-High Club." I was tempted to be angry, but the more time I spent around my new husband's family, the more I realized that they were just like the folks back in the Burg. Sure, the Súarez side of the family dressed nicer, and drove fancier vehicles – of all types – and lived a rather different lifestyle than the Mañoso side, but they were just as nosy, mischievous and meddlesome as anyone in _**my**_ family.

I plastered a fake smile on my face to hide my embarrassment and said, "How _**kind**_ of you to make all the arrangements for this …um, occasion, Uncle Diego. I'll bet this sort of thing happens all the time."

Uncle Diego threw back his head and laughed aloud. When he finished laughing, he explained his mirth, "It _**was**_ my pleasure to make all the arrangements for you and Carlos, my dear. However, contrary to what you might be thinking right now, very little excitement ever happens on these private flights. Usually, Riva just bores everyone to tears with meetings about cost estimates and monthly sales figures for all branches of the company. When my nephew contacted me about a ride down to Florida, I jumped at the chance to help make it special for both of you – especially since he told me that you hate to fly."

I lost my frostiness and smiled genuinely at the older man. Then I slyly remarked, "Well, I suppose that if I could fly like this every time, I _**might**_ just become a frequent flyer."

This got a big smile out of Ranger, who said, "As soon as RangeMan can afford a company plane like this one, Babe, you'll be the _**first**_ to know."

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**A/N: Pfft! So much for having more time to type! Right after I posted the previous chapter, I went away for a long weekend trip to attend my 25****th**** college class reunion, then I went to an out-of-town conference the following weekend, and I've been teaching a variety of classes the rest of the month. My beta, Claire, got a full-time job and she's super-busy now, so I'm flying solo for the time being. Sorry if there are any glaring mistakes. Also, I've added a few more "illustrations" to my flickr photo album. Please let me know what you think. Thanks! **


	37. Chapter 37

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world.**

**A/N: Happy New Year! First of all, I want to apologize for being so far behind on answering your wonderful reviews. I promise to answer every one of them very soon, but I thought you might like it better if I spent my winter holiday typing up the rest of the story. Honestly! I can't believe I've been posting this story for an entire year! Please remember; instead of fumbling around with line-by-line translations, I have chosen to indicate the characters' use of the Spanish language by placing double asterisks (**) outside of their quotation marks. Anyway, I hope this extremely long chapter, which I **_**do**_** realize could have been presented as several smaller chapters, will make up for my slowness. Enjoy! **

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_Ranger and I had a sort of loose partnership. Ranger was a genuine, cool-ass, numero-uno bounty hunter. I asked him to help me because I was still learning the trade and needed all the help I could get._

_Two for the Dough_

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**Chapter 37: Dynamic Duo**

**Winter: Julie Martine's POV**

Parents are, like, _**so**_ weird. I mean, like, my mom and dad used to be cool – for parents, that is. They used to let me ride my bike all over the neighborhood and, like, have sleepovers with my friends all the time. But now, everything is, like, different – and not in a good way. Now I can't go _**anywhere**_ or do anything without my mom, like, flipping out about my safety and all. It really sucks!

Here's the deal: I have a birth father _**and**_ I have a dad. My birth father, Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, divorced my mom, Rachel, right after I was born, so, like, his name is on my birth certificate and all. I know it's weird, but actually I call him "Ranger." That's what a bunch of his Army buddies call him, too. I was only two when my mom married Ronald Martine, who, like, became my adoptive father. I call him "Dad" and he and my mom have two more kids besides me. So, even though the only last name I've ever written on any of my school papers is "Martine," I know that I'm, like, really a Mañoso, too.

A lot of my friends have divorced parents and, like, they sometimes spend weekends and vacations someplace else. Ranger mostly lives in New Jersey, where I have, like, all kinds of aunts and uncles and cousins that I just met last year. My birth dad doesn't have any kind of, like, custody over me, but he almost always visits on my birthday, which is in the middle of July. Ron is pretty cool with Ranger and all, but sometimes my little brother and sister get jealous because I get, like, _**awesome**_ birthday presents every year. Sometimes, when Ranger is in Miami – where we live – my mom says it's, like, okay for him to visit with me. I really love all my parents, but it's still, like, weird, you know?

Ranger runs his very own company, called RangeMan. Lots of his workers used to be in the Army, too, and now they're all bounty hunters. They're not exactly the police, but they can, like, arrest bad people and stuff. I've even heard my mom say that Ranger is kind of like Batman. Sounds cool, huh? His company also guards good people and puts security systems in, like, rich peoples' houses. They put one in our house, too, even though we're not, like, rich or anything.

There are RangeMan buildings in a bunch of cities, including Miami. The one here is downtown on Biscayne Boulevard and I'm, like, not allowed to go to that part of town. In fact, I've never been to the RangeMan office here, but I've been to the one up in Trenton – which is, like, the capitol city of New Jersey. I was the only one in my sixth grade class who got that question right on our geography quiz last week!

The biggest problem in my life now is that my mom won't actually, like, let me _**have**_ a life. She says it's not safe for me to be outside anymore, even though my counselor, Mrs. Ferguson, says that I should be, like, getting back into doing normal stuff by now. You see, last year I was kidnapped and taken away to New Jersey. Everyone thought that Ranger had turned bad and, like, taken me away from my mom and dad. But it wasn't him that did it. A real crazy guy named Edward Scrog tried to ruin our lives, and even though he's, like, dead, he's done a pretty good job so far.

The crazy guy looked a lot like Ranger and he was so crazy that he decided he wanted to _**be**_ Ranger. _**As if!**_ I mean, my father is too cool to be copied by anyone. Anyway, Scrog wanted me to call him "Dad" and all, but I wouldn't do it. I called him "Chuck" instead. Chuck even killed his own wife and then kidnapped Stephanie Plum – a lady he knew that Ranger liked, like, a lot. He was so crazy, he thought that the three of us would become, like, a _**family**_ after he got rid of Ranger. Totally wacko!

Things were, like, pretty bad for a while, especially when Chuck gave me some drugs which, like, knocked me out. Then he tied up Stephanie and set a trap for Ranger in Stephanie's apartment. When Ranger walked into the trap, Chuck shot him a bunch of times – but he didn't kill him. My father is _**so**_ _**tough**_! I decided to be like Ranger and I was able to get Chuck's gun away from him and I actually, like, shot him. Then the police all rushed in and the ambulance guys took my father to the hospital. There was lots of blood everywhere and sometimes I still have, like, nightmares about it.

My mom used to tell me to, like, always look on the "bright side" of stuff, but she hardly ever does that anymore. We were all glad that, like, nobody sent me to jail - even though Chuck died later. I think everybody thought he got what he deserved. I think that the bright side of the kidnapping was that I got to meet Stephanie and most of my Mañoso family while we waited for my mom to come up and get me. My Grandma Gloria, Ranger's mom, is, like, the best cook _**ever**_ and she introduced me to a _**ton**_ of cousins I never knew I had. It was kinda weird, but everyone was, like, happy to meet me and they all were glad that I was safe, too.

The not-so-bright side of everything that happened last year is that now I have to, like, talk to Mrs. Ferguson – the counselor - every other week. She's always asking me a bunch of questions about, like, my dreams and nightmares and stuff and what I'm thinking. For a while, she kept trying to figure out if Chuck had touched me or harmed me in my private places. Ick! It took me, like, a long time to convince her that Chuck wasn't bad like _**that.**_ Still, I don't think Mrs. Ferguson really believes me.

The worst part is that I think my mom doesn't believe me either. You see, I used to be able to play outside with my friends, but not anymore. I used to take ballet classes, but not anymore. My brother and sister and I used to play soccer, but not anymore. Like I said before, my life _**totally**_ sucks! Since my dad wasn't having any luck convincing my mom that everything should be, like, back to normal, I thought that maybe my father would have a better chance at it. So, when I called Ranger at Christmastime, I asked him to come down for a visit.

Ranger and Stephanie just got married, like, two months ago. They, like, eloped and everything. Amazingly, my parents actually took me to the party in South Beach after the wedding and I met Ranger's mom's dad, my Great-Grandfather Súarez, and a few more relatives I didn't even know I had here in Miami. That was, like, so cool! I'm _**really**_ glad that the Dynamic Duo – that's what I've decided to call Ranger and Stephanie now – came down to Florida to, like, talk some sense back into my mom. I know it's not cool to be sneaky and all, but while they all were sitting in my parents' living room, I listened to their conversation through the air vent in my room.

"Rachel, be reasonable," Ranger said. "Julie's still a young girl. Let her have her childhood back. If the professional counselor thinks it would be best for Julie to resume her former activities, then why won't you even consider it?"

"She could get hurt again, Ranger," replied Rachel. "I just can't let that happen!"

"Honey, you know that the likelihood of something like this happening again is very slight," said Ron.

"I know no such thing!" Rachel exclaimed angrily. "Ranger has spent his entire adult life chasing after bad guys both here and abroad. Who knows how many enemies he's made? I _**refuse**_ to subject my family to this kind of horror ever again!"

Ranger's voice was soothing when he said, "Rachel, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all of this, but I truly believe that the Scrog incident was one-of-a-kind."

"Yes," Rachel replied coldly. "But it was one time too many, Ranger! We may never know the lasting damage that … that _**monster**_ inflicted upon my baby!" Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence and she began to weep quietly.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're not talking about exactly the same thing?" Ranger asked carefully.

Ron sighed and explained, "Julie's counselor thinks that she might be repressing some, uh, sexual abuse. Rachel thinks so, too."

"What?" exclaimed Stephanie. "How can you think that? I _**never**_ saw any evidence of that sort of thing. When Scrog …captured me, I asked Julie about that very thing and she said he _**hadn't**_ touched her like that. She was even wearing the same clothes she had on when he took her."

"But in the official report, you said that both of you were chained to a bed," Rachel choked out. "How can you sit there and tell me that nothing happened on that bed?"

"Because _**nothing**_ happened – I swear," Stephanie insisted. "I'll admit that when Scrog snatched _**me**_, he … he totally undressed me and put different clothes on my body before he took me to the trailer. But that was because he figured that I had to be wearing a wire or something. Even then, he didn't, um, molest me. Not sexually, anyway."

Ranger said, "Rachel, Scrog was a very sick man, but he saw himself as playing the role of Julie's father. It's a good sign that Julie had on all of her original pieces of clothing when Stephanie first saw her. Apparently, Scrog only drugged or stunned his victims in order to drag them from place to place – _**not**_ to abuse them."

"But the fact still remains that that madman drugged Julie over and over again!" Rachel wailed. "No one can be sure that nothing sexual happened while she was unconscious. And I can't believe that you, Stephanie, don't think _**anything**_ happened either!"

"Honey, please calm down," Ron urged. "The doctors have examined Julie and they've assured us that her body doesn't have any signs of that kind of abuse. Stephanie was there and she saw no evidence of abuse. Even Julie has told you, time and again, that she really is okay. Can't you _**please**_ let this go?"

"Why are you all ganging up on me like this?" complained Rachel. "I have to do what's best to keep my family safe. I'm just trying to be strong – like _**you**_ always are, Ranger. You're supposed to be on my side! Why can't you just support me?"

"I _**am**_ trying to support you, Rachel, but you're making it difficult," Ranger quietly replied. "When Julie called me, she told me that you won't let her do any of the things she used to be able to do, like her dance classes or playing soccer. She's miserable, Rachel – and so are your other kids. She said you didn't even take them out to the mall for Christmas shopping or to get their photo taken with Santa. You can't keep them all inside all the time and hope that nothing bad ever happens to them ever again."

"Oh, yeah?" Rachel challenged. "Just wait until _**you**_ _**two**_ have kids of your own and then let's see what happens. Playtime will be over! I know you, Ranger, and you're worse than I am about security and all that. Mark my words: I bet you'll keep your kids locked up tight in whatever kind of fortress you're living in by then."

There was silence for a few seconds and I really wished, like, I could see all the grown-ups' faces. It sounded like my mom wasn't changing her mind at all. Maybe she was even becoming, like, _**worse**_ than before. How depressing was that? I heard some whispering, but I couldn't tell whose voices they were. Then, Ranger began to speak again and – I swear – it made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

"Rachel, listen to me," Ranger said. "The reason Stephanie and I are down here in Florida isn't about playtime. It isn't even really about work, either. We're headed over to Tampa for some serious psychological counseling. I'm not even allowed to take on any new missions until a military psychiatrist clears me for duty."

"I – I don't understand," said Rachel. "Guys like you always say that shrinks are for sissies."

"Guys like me are wrong sometimes. _**I**_ was wrong about this," Ranger replied. "Look Rachel, it's not easy for me either. You _**know**_ how bad I felt when Scrog took Julie. I was caught off-guard and that terrified me. Now that Stephanie and I are married, some … other things from my past have surfaced. There are things that I must deal with right away. I can't move forward with any confidence until I get my head straightened out. Now, if _**I**_ can admit that I need help to get over a particular trauma, perhaps it's time that you did the same. Not just for Julie's sake, but for your own sake and Ron and the kids', too. You're wasting precious time by being paranoid about the world. Bad things happen all the time. You can't prevent them – you just have to deal with them in a way that's best for everyone involved."

"Whoa! You _**must**_ be serious, Ranger," Rachel sounded amazed. "That's the most you've ever said to me at any one time."

Stephanie snickered and then cleared her throat. "Rachel, if it's any consolation, I'm going to see a counselor, too," she said. "I've realized that there's no point in Carlo- er, Ranger going through this alone. Besides, there are lots of people back home who probably have been saying that _**I'm**_ definitely long overdue for seeing a shrink."

"I don't believe this!" Rachel said weakly. "All this time I … I've tried to be strong. I've tried to be hard and protective – like you, Ranger - and now you're telling me that I've been wasting my time and making my family miserable? What am I supposed to do? How can I get through this?"

"Get help, Rachel," Ranger replied. "My doctor gave me the names of some family counselors here in Miami-"

"Do you know how much these counselors charge?" Rachel cut him off, "You're already paying for Julie's counseling sessions, but Ron and I – we … we just can't afford all the fees."

"Rachel, please. You know that money is no object here," Ranger sounded a little angry now. "This is partly my fault and I've always accepted and taken care of my responsibilities. I'll _**gladly**_ pay for your sessions and Julie's sessions and whatever other treatments may be necessary."

"What do you mean by 'other treatments'?" Rachel asked. "I'm _**not**_ crazy. And I refuse to go through any sort of inpatient care."

Ranger sighed and said, "That's not what I was talking about. What if your entire family would benefit from a few group counseling sessions? What if there's an opportunity for you and Ron to get away on a couples' retreat? And what if one of your counselors recommends that you all go away on a family vacation as part of your recovery? Those are the sorts of other treatments I'm talking about here."

"Yes," Stephanie added, "Ranger's doctor told us about some of the things that the military mental health professionals are doing to help families who have been through all kinds of trauma since the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have produced so many severely injured soldiers."

"Oh," was all Rachel said.

"Why don't you let us sleep on it tonight?" Ron suggested. "There's a lot for me and Rachel to think about and discuss. We can get back to you in the morning, okay?"

I couldn't hear the answer, so I guessed that the adults were, like, nodding their heads or something. For the first time in a long time, though, I had some hope. I was so glad I had called Ranger. Bringing in the Dynamic Duo was, like, one of my best ideas ever! And from the sound of things, maybe we'd all actually get to go someplace special spring break! My brother and sister might actually forgive me and things could, like, get back to normal and stuff. Now _**that**_ would be worth all this trouble!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Winter: Stephanie's POV**

Ranger and I spent a few days in Miami before we flew across the state to Tampa. It took us the better part of two days to convince Julie's mom, Rachel, to go to some counseling sessions with a highly-recommended psychiatrist that Dr O'Neill told us about. Oddly enough, I think it was Ranger's admission that he, too, would be going into counseling for his PTSD that really made all the difference for Rachel. I hoped that we all would get better real soon so that life could get back to normal – that is, if there is such a thing as normal when it comes to Ranger and me.

Have I mentioned that I love being in Florida in the winter? My mother called to tell me that New Jersey got blanketed with almost a foot of snow the day after we left. For once, she was glad that her mother was enjoying the warmth and safety of the Florida winter. I couldn't agree more. Every time I saw Grandma Mazur, she looked happier than ever.

On the next-to-the-last day of our stay in Miami, Ranger and I spent a very pleasant afternoon on the beach with Grandma Mazur and Bruno, Papí Súarez, Silvio and Juanita, Ranger's cousins Cat and Val, and Val's partner, Chano. Rosie had packed a fabulous picnic lunch for all of us and we bought ice cream cones from one of the many vendors along the beach. Everyone was very relaxed and our conversations were filled with laughter.

"Grandma! Omigod!" I gasped through my guffaws at her latest story. "Please tell me that you didn't tackle that poor old woman on your way to the discount sales rack!"

"Well, I almost had to, didn't I?" Grandma replied indignantly. "I just couldn't allow that old windbag to snag the last lilac velour suit. I saw it first! In fact, I was the one who told her about the outfit when we were waiting for Macy's to open up that morning. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I noticed the gleam in her piggy little eyes and I knew that she was going after it, too. But that suit was _**made**_ for me and I won it fair and square!"

'You should have seen my Edna running through the store," Bruno beamed proudly. "She was like a gazelle!"

Grandma leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek and he grinned back at her. It was such a sweet gesture. I could tell that the old couple really was happy. The other couples with us seemed to be happy, too. Juanita's pregnancy was a bit more obvious now and whenever Silvio rubbed his hand over her "baby bump" – which was quite often – he would smile contentedly. Val and Chano shared an enormous beach towel and either entwined their fingers or touched their feet together or both. Ranger kept me encircled within his well-muscled, protective arms.

I hated to leave Miami, but I knew that we'd return soon enough. Or at least, I hoped so. Ranger had already warned me that the commuter flight we were taking from Miami to Tampa wouldn't be anything like our flight from Atlantic City to Miami, but just the memory of that fabulous flight was enough to keep my mind off of the fact that I was up in the air again. Before I knew it, we were landing in Tampa, ready to begin our next adventure.

When we first arrived in Tampa, Ranger's Uncle Marcos and his wife, Maribel, insisted that we stay with them in their waterfront house. Actually, "house" isn't the proper term for their palatial dwelling. It seemed like every time I turned around, I was meeting some more relatives of Ranger's that he hadn't told me about before. He has uncles and aunts and cousins and nephews and nieces everywhere

When Aunt Maribel took me on a complete tour of her home, I was astounded by its simple elegance and "old world" charm. There was a lush garden in front of the L-shaped mansion and a nice-sized swimming pool in the back yard. There was even a large boat slip beyond the pool, big enough for the _Batcave_ yacht. Maribel told me that Papí usually sailed from Miami to Tampa at least once every winter and stayed with her and Marcos for more than a month. If we stayed in town long enough, she assured us that we would see the Súarez family patriarch.

The guest house where Ranger and I stayed for the first part of our time in Tampa was connected to the main mansion by a covered breezeway alongside the pool. In the mornings, after he finished his workouts, Ranger brought in breakfast trays which Uncle Marcos' cook, Maria, had prepared for us. We enjoyed a variety of delicious omelets, freshly-baked breads, coffee and, yes, lots of fresh fruit – especially pineapple. I wondered if all of the cooks and chefs who served the various branches of the Súarez family kept in regular contact with Ella.

Ranger had to go to the nearby MacDill Air Force Base (AFB) every day that week, because he had all sorts of meetings with his former military bosses, as well as a few appointments with Dr. O'Neill and the psychiatrist who would be treating us, Dr. Ken Fiorelli. First though, Ranger had to go through several medical appointments and counseling sessions on his own. Uncle Marcos ran the Tampa branch of Súarez Euro Motorcars, so I spent a lot of time with Aunt Maribel. Her grown children were a bit older than Ranger and her youngest granddaughter was preparing for her fifteenth birthday party.

Maribel explained to me that the quinceañero – she pronounced it "keen-say-on-yarrow" - is the Latina version of a coming-of-age party. It's a _**major**_ big deal and even though I stayed out by the swimming pool for much of the time, I got quite an education in the whole process. Ranger's cousin, Luz, Maribel's only daughter, had only one daughter and it was this girl –Blanca Rose - who was turning fifteen years old in April, right before Easter. A steady stream of caterers, dressmakers, and musicians kept coming in for interviews in the hopes that the wealthy women would hire one of them. It seemed like a lot of work, but some of it was fun work – especially when the bakery shops brought out their cake samples. Maribel and Luz always invited me to the taste-tests and really seemed to value my opinions.

"When Papí informed us that my wayward cousin Carlos had finally gotten married, he also told us that the bride truly appreciated food," explained Luz, with a twinkle in her clear brown eyes. "Mami here tells me Maria has enjoyed fixing all sorts of dishes for you because you give compliments to everything that is placed in front of you."

Blushing, I replied, "Well, it's impossible to resist the food that your family's chefs prepare. Everything is so delicious!" I was stretched out on a lounge chair next to the pool, working on my tan.

Luz flashed me a dazzling smile and said, "Shh! If Maria hears you gushing out such praise, she'll demand a bigger raise before the party. Anyway, I figure that anyone who can eat the way you do - and still keep your figure looking so nice - is certainly qualified to help us choose a menu for my Blanca Rose's quince." Then she went back to comparing the silky fabric swatches that were draped all over one of the poolside tables.

I sure hoped Blanca Rose understood that even though the upcoming party was for her, it was definitely her mother's and grandmother's party as well. For a moment, I felt sorry for the girl. I was sure that the mother-daughter relationship issues were the same, but this was an entirely different world from the Burg. Then I felt an odd surge of envy for the opulent lifestyle that so many of Ranger's relatives seemed to live: big yachts and bigger mansions, fancy cars and private airplanes, personal chefs and now, fabulous parties.

Suddenly, I realized that _**I**_ had married into this wealthy enclave, too. Although there wouldn't be any more missed car payments and empty cupboards for me, I wondered if I was in danger of becoming a serious micromanager – like my mom and practically every female relative of Ranger's that I'd met so far. If Ranger and I ever had a daughter of our own, would everyone on his side of the family expect me to do this whole quinceañero thing, too? Then I got a chill because I wasn't sure I'd ever be ready to have a child. It was too much to try to comprehend all at once, so I rolled over and let the sun warm my backside.

The morning after Valentine's Day - we'd been in Tampa for a couple of weeks now - Ranger woke me up and said, "Babe, you gotta get up now. We need to pack our things and get ready to go. It's finally time for you to come with me and meet Dr. Fiorelli. We have a late-morning appointment with Dr. O'Neill first and then we'll meet the shrink at his private office off-base. Then … we'll be moving in to one of his … facilities … for a while." Obviously, he had just finished his morning workout and he smelled deliciously musky to me.

"W-what?" I mumbled as I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes. "Couldn't you have told me this last night – _**before**_ we had stayed out so late?"

Ranger had taken me out to dinner and dancing in a part of town called Ybor City, where the Cuban food was excellent and the dance club atmosphere was hotter than hot. Afterward, we'd had steamy sex in the car before we returned to Uncle Marcos' house. When we finally made our way into the guest house, we enjoyed another steamy shower before we finally fell, completely exhausted, into bed at about three o'clock in the morning.

Ranger twirled a wayward strand of my hair around his index finger and replied, "Babe."

"Seriously, Carlos," I grumbled as I struggled to support myself on one elbow, "I need more of an advanced warning than _**this**_ to get ready and you know it! Why did you wait 'til now?"

"It was Valentine's Day, Steph. We were having so much fun, I didn't want to ruin it for you," Ranger's lips brushed against mine and I felt myself melting into his embrace. "Besides," he continued, "I didn't want you to be anxious, either. Now, let's get you into the shower." Then he scooped me out of the bed and carried me into the luxurious bathroom. We took our time in the shower and I know I emerged feeling quite satisfied. Bathing with Ranger was an experience unto itself. Yum!

After I blasted my hair with the blow-dryer and got dressed in a short denim skirt and stretchy red T-shirt, I asked Ranger, "Carlos, what's going to happen today? And why did you think I'd be anxious about it?"

He finished threading a nice leather belt through the loops on his black slacks before answering me, "Stephanie, Dr. O'Neill wants to give you a few diagnostic tests and then you'll have to answer a bunch of questions for Dr. Fiorelli. There's nothing to worry about. I just wanted you to have fun last night." Then he leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him by bracing my hands against his naked, broad chest.

"Oh, no you don't, Carlos Mañoso!" I exclaimed. "You're not going to distract me this time. I want to know what's going on and I want to know right now! And for heaven's sake, why do we have to leave your uncle's house?"

Ranger sighed as he shrugged into one of his black guayabera shirts and he began to explain, "Dr. Fiorelli wants us to be in a more controlled environment while he treats my PTSD." After a long pause, while he finished buttoning his shirt, he added, "There are certain, ah …tasks that he'll want us to complete, and it'll be weird if we try to accomplish them here at my uncle's house. I already told my aunt and uncle that, due to the sensitive nature of our business here in Tampa, we would have to leave them today."

"What kind of tasks?" I asked warily.

"Steph, I think it'll be best if the doctor explains all that," he replied. "For now, you'll just have to trust me. C'mon, Babe, you finish packing while I hunt down some breakfast for you. I'll be right back." And with that, he quickly slipped out of the room before I could reply.

Dr. O'Neill was waiting for us in his office when we arrived at the base. After some small talk, he presented me with a manila folder full of papers with little "Sign Here" tabs stuck all over them and explained that they were just basic medical history and standard release forms. Ranger already had explained the importance of these papers so I wasn't exactly surprised, but I still I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach while I skimmed through and signed all the boring legal documents. Then the doctor collected samples of my blood, saliva, and urine before he escorted us out to our borrowed car in the parking lot.

"Nice wheels," remarked the doctor as he gestured toward the metallic sky blue Mercedes convertible that Uncle Marcos had insisted that we use while we were in town.

Ranger nodded and said, "Thank you, sir. It's my uncle's; he had a spare."

The doctor grinned. "I always forget how well-connected you are, Major Mañoso. I was going to let you and Stephanie borrow my son's car, but it looks so sad in comparison to what your family has already provided." He nodded toward a scruffy-looking dark blue Volkswagen Rabbit, sitting by itself on the other side of the parking lot. "We bought it before our son went off to college in Philadelphia, but we decided to keep it down here. You wouldn't believe how much the car insurance was going to cost me if he took the blasted thing up north! Anyway, it's been sitting in my garage for a while, so my wife suggested that I let you two borrow it while you're in Tampa. It's got the proper military ID tags and everything for you to be able to come and go from the airbase without having to hassle with a visitor's pass and all that rigmarole."

"That's very nice of you," I said.

The doctor smiled and pressed a set of car keys into my. "Why don't you go ahead and take it anyway? You never know when a second vehicle might come in handy around here."

I hesitated, not knowing what to say, but Ranger piped right up, "Sir, we appreciate your generosity, but … Stephanie doesn't exactly have the best track record with cars."

The doctor laughed and said, "I know. Between Silvio and some of the other guys who work for you now, I think I've heard all the stories of the infamous Bombshell Bounty Hunter, remember? It would almost be a kindness if something were to … ah … happen to this vehicle. My son probably would like to have a reason to get a nicer car."

"Wait just a minute, Dr. O'Neill!" I protested as Ranger tried not to crack a smile, "Are you saying that you'd be willing to let me drive your son's car in the hopes that my usual bad car karma kicks in while I'm here?"

The doctor's lips quirked into a half-smile and he said, rather sheepishly, "Well, it was just a thought. I didn't mean to offend you, Stephanie." Then he patted me on the shoulder in a very fatherly way.

I thought about tossing the car keys back to him, but then my practical side kicked in and I realized that the doctor's offer really was a good one. While Ranger and I were staying at his uncle's house, Maribel and Luz had taken me out to a variety of stores and other interesting places during the times when my husband was doing whatever it was that he had to do on the base all day. Now that Ranger and I had to stay in whatever "controlled environment" that the shrink had in mind, it might be nice to have my own set of wheels with which to explore my surroundings.

"On second thought, Doc," I announced, "I think I'll take you up on your offer. Thanks!" And, to Ranger's dismay, I pocketed the keys.

"It's my pleasure, Stephanie," Dr. O'Neill grinned. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this visit any less painful for you and your husband. I know you both sacrificed a lot in order to come down here on such short notice. Now, are you ready for a little tour of the airbase before your appointment with Dr. Fiorelli?"

"Uh … what?" I had been mesmerized by the sight of what had to be an alligator slowly making its way along the opposite side of the parking lot, toward the blue Volkswagen. I blinked in surprise when I realized that Dr. O'Neill had addressed his question to me.

Ranger chuckled and said, "Doc asked if you would like to take a tour of the airbase, Babe. I need to check in with one of my old bosses again before our head-shrinking appointment."

"Do they attack people?" I asked, never taking my eyes off of the large, ugly lizard.

"What?" both Ranger and Dr. O'Neill exclaimed simultaneously.

"Alligators," I said and pointed across the parking lot. "Do they attack innocent bystanders?"

Both men followed my gaze until they realized what I was talking about. The prowling reptile had stopped and it seemed to me that it was looking directly at us. I wondered if it was considering eating the little blue car. Then I wondered if the monster considered _**us**_ to be better candidates for its lunch. Ranger placed two warm fingers on my chin and gently turned my face toward his.

"Babe," he said, "I don't want to you worry about the 'gators around here. This is Florida and those prehistoric lizards were here long before we humans moved in. As long as you keep your distance - _**and**_ as long as you remain alert and aware of your surroundings - everything will be just fine."

"Great," I grumbled. "We all know how aware of my surroundings I am – _**not**_. And what am I supposed to do if it's hanging around the car, waiting to ambush me?"

Ranger pulled me into a reassuring embrace and said, "Babe, I promise: if you don't bother it, it won't bother you. But … you might want to wear your running shoes."

Ha ha, very funny. It was easy for _**him**_ to make jokes about this. An alligator would take one good look at the big, menacing Ranger and decide that his tough hide wouldn't be worth all the trouble. In comparison, I figured I probably looked like a nice, juicy, easy-to-catch snack. Regardless of Ranger's flippant words, I knew I'd be keeping a close look-out for more of the scary creatures. And maybe I would have to resort to wearing my sneakers more often. I did _**not**_ intend on getting gobbled up by a 'gator.

The tour of MacDill AFB took longer than I had thought it would. There were several large, ominous-looking buildings that Dr. O'Neill identified as the major command headquarters. Thank God Ranger had given me a bunch of tiny courses in military acronyms and slang before we came down to Florida, or else I'd have been completely lost. As it was, the only areas of the base that truly held my interest were the beaches and the marina. The doctor even treated me to lunch at the base's golf course clubhouse, where the view of the bay was simply spectacular.

When we finally met up with Ranger back at the medical facility parking lot, the alligator was gone. Ranger, however, had a dark expression on his face. He told us that his meeting went well, but he'd also found out that due to his current medical status, the government had placed a hold on all of the jobs that RangeMan normally would have handled. I could see that he was not happy about this situation, but when I tried to soothe him, he maintained his blank face, which really annoyed me.

"There's nothing you can do about it right now, Babe," Ranger said. His voice was quiet and steady – a sure sign that he was barely maintaining control over his emotions. "I gotta do what I gotta do so that we can get the hell outta here."

"Carlos, remember what we told Rachel? I'm here to help you; we're here _**together**_," I insisted. "You're not in this alone."

He glared first at me and then the doctor and then back at me again. "Well, Steph, that sounds real nice, but up until now, while you've been hanging out at my uncle's pool, helping to plan parties and crap, _**I've**_ been the only one sitting in meetings and undergoing test after test after friggin' test. Only today, after the generals and everybody else are sure that I won't blab important bits of classified information in front of you, Babe, the shrink can bring you in on all the fun and games."

"His name is Dr. Ken Fiorelli – _**not**_ 'the shrink'," Dr. O'Neill reiterated. "I really thought you two had warmed up to each other. I thought you had discovered your common ground."

One side of Ranger's mouth quirked up in a half-smile and he said cryptically, "Oh, Dr. Fiorelli and I found our common ground all right."

"Really?" I asked, surprised by this revelation. Ranger had avoided discussing anything that had to do with his daily activities so far. It was true; he had been going to "work" on the base while I had been lounging by the pool and "playing" with his aunt and cousin. I guessed he hadn't been as nonchalant about everything as I had previously thought.

Ranger sort-of shrugged and replied, "Fiorelli isn't that common of a name here in Florida, so I asked the good doctor where he was from and he said Long Island, New York. Turns out that Chano - my Cousin Valentino's partner - and Dr. Ken Fiorelli happen to be from the same family. Their fathers are first cousins."

"Wow," I said, "I guess it's a small world after all."

Neither man laughed at my little Florida/Disney joke. Spoil-sports!

"Why didn't you tell me about the family connection?" I asked. "Isn't that some sort of conflict of interest or something?"

Dr O'Neill cleared his throat and answered, "Ah, no. You'll be fine. By the way, after Dr. Fiorelli is done with you, you're more than welcome to join me and my wife for dinner tonight. We're just grilling some fish I caught the other day. Nothing fancy – I promise."

I glanced at Ranger and he glanced back at me. Somehow, even though my Batman really liked fresh fish, I didn't think that have dinner with the good doctor was big on his agenda for this particular evening. He politely declined Dr O'Neill's offer and the man said he completely understood. Then he wished us well, told us he had to go to a meeting at another building, slid into his classic silver 1962 Corvette and drove away.

"Okay, Carlos," I said after we both watched Dr. O'Neill's beauty of a car get farther and farther away from us. "What _**are**_ we going to do for dinner tonight?" My stomach rumbled as though it was echoing my question.

"Babe," was Ranger's reply. Then he locked eyes with me and I realized that _**I**_ definitely was on his menu.

Luckily for Ranger, I was hungry for him, also. Unluckily for us, we would have to wait until after our appointment with Dr. Fiorelli before we could appease our mutual appetites for one another. We quickly drove away from MacDill in the Mercedes so that we wouldn't be late. Ranger persuaded me that it would best if we stayed together so that he could talk me through the various routes to get from place to place. I agreed that we could pick up the Volkswagen later. Luckily for both of us, we'd had a great Valentine's Day celebration filled with lots of steamy, passionate sex. We didn't know that it would be our last bit of normalcy for quite a while.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Spring: Papí Suarez's POV**

I like to travel all around the coast of Florida and the Caribbean Sea, especially during the winter months. As soon as the annual Miami International Boat Show was over, I began to plan my voyages. This year, I decided to set sail immediately after Miami's annual Calle Ocho Festival in March. I had stayed long enough with my family in South Beach and it was time for me to visit my son, Marcos, who lived near Tampa. Besides, his youngest granddaughter, Blanca Rose, who had been named for my own dear Blanca, was going to have her quinceañero celebration in April and I definitely did not want to miss such a momentous occasion. Of course, with a yacht like the _Batcave_, it didn't take more than a day to reach my destination.

Before I departed Miami, I called Tampa and asked my son and daughter-in-law what they thought of the "Dynamic Duo" – as I frequently referred to Carlos and his beautiful wife, Stephanie. When Marcos informed me that they had moved out to stay at some silly hotel on MacDill AFB, I was deeply disappointed in my grandson. I knew that he and Stephanie had gone to Tampa on some sort of business, but that should not have kept them from enjoying the hospitality of family in the area. I called Carlos the day after my arrival at Marcos' house to give him a piece of mind.

**"Carlos, is that you?"** I asked in Spanish when he answered his cell phone after the third ring.

"Papí?" he replied, sounding confused. **"What's the matter? Is everything okay in Miami?"**

**"It was when I left, so I suppose it still is,"** I replied.

**"Wait, where are you now?"**he asked.

I made my voice sound a bit colder than I had to, but I wanted to make a point. **"I'm at Marcos' house – in Tampa. We sailed around the coast yesterday. Funny thing, though; I thought I'd get a chance to see you and Stephanie when I arrived, but you're no longer staying here. Your uncle tells me that you left his comfortable home last month and moved into a hotel. He doesn't even know if you have plans to visit before you leave town. Of course, you'll have to return his car, but…"**

Carlos cut me off by saying, **"Papí, I was going to call Uncle Marcos as soon as it was reasonable for me to do so, but Stephanie and I are here on very serious business and-"**

I, in turn, interrupted him, **"So serious that you didn't even make time for a simple little phone call? No! Carlos, you can do better than that. I know that your Abuela Blanca would be very disappointed by your lack of manners."**

**"But Papí, I-"** he started and I cut him off again.

**"No buts!"** I said. **"You will bring Stephanie to dinner at Marcos' house tomorrow evening. Be here at seven o'clock sharp! I want to see you both for myself. I have a bad feeling that you're not treating your lovely wife right."** Then I disconnected the call before he had a chance to decline or make any more excuses for his poor manners.

My daughter-in-law, Maribel, was, as always, a gracious hostess. Marcos' wife ran an extremely organized household – much like my own Blanca. Her cook had prepared a spectacular dinner – not quite as good as Túlio's cooking, but, of course, my chef _**is**_ the best. Everything was set for a fantastic meal, but I knew something was terribly wrong when Carlos and Stephanie arrived at Marcos' house on time the next evening. They looked awful! Everyone greeted each other courteously, but you could have cut through the thick tension between the newlyweds with a knife.

"So, Stephanie," Maribel began as the dessert dishes were being cleared away, "Luz and I have missed you since you moved out. How are your current accommodations?"

Stephanie, whose face looked much paler than the last time I had seen her, glanced at Carlos before replying, "They're … all right. We were in a hotel room at first, but … um, now we're staying in a townhouse. Neither place compares with your lovely home, though. How are the plans coming along for your granddaughter's party?" It was obvious that Stephanie wasn't happy with their current living arrangements, but after Carlos cleared his throat when she mentioned the townhouse, the topic didn't seem to be open for discussion.

Maribel hesitated before she answered, "Oh, everything is fine! We chose the baker that you really liked. Remember the one with the coconut cream cake?"

"That was the best cake I'd ever tasted!" Stephanie smiled. It was her first genuine smile of the evening. "Did you choose the caterers who made those little crab cakes and the saffron rice, too?"

"But of course!" Maribel smiled in return. "You have very good taste buds, Stephanie. I hope that you and Carlos will be able to attend Blanca Rose's quinceañero. We, ah, haven't received your response to the invitation – yet."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the dinner table as all eyes turned toward Carlos, whose unreadable facial expression spelled trouble. Of all my children and grandchildren, Carlos was the best at making his face completely blank when he did not want anyone to know his true feelings. On the other hand, Stephanie was quite easy to read because she wore everything on her face. Right now, she seemed very nervous and uptight. I had no idea what was troubling the couple, but I knew it had to be bad.

Deciding to change the subject, Marcos suddenly said, "Stephanie, I seem to remember that you told us you and Carlos met while working together as bounty hunters. Do you think you'll miss it?"

Stephanie looked confused. "Oh, Carlos and I still work together. In fact, I'm a full business partner in his company now."

Marcos chuckled and said, "Forgive me, my dear. What I _**meant**_ to ask was do you think you'll miss all the excitement of your job once you start having children? Surely, you won't continue to do something so dangerous when you become a mother."

"I … uh …w-well-" Stephanie stammered incoherently and Carlos came to her rescue.

"We're not focused on having children at this time, Uncle Marcos," he said, with a tightness in his voice that indicated this topic also was not open for discussion – at all. Fortunately, the coffee arrived then and we all busied ourselves with pouring the cream and passing the sugar around the table.

"Well, Carlos, you can imagine our surprise when you and Stephanie moved out of my house," Marcos said. "We knew you were here in Tampa on some sort of business, but I didn't realize that you really meant MacDill. We thought you were out of the military now." Then he took a long sip of coffee and peered at Carlos over the rim of his cup.

"Not … entirely," Carlos replied hesitantly as he placed his coffee cup back onto its saucer. He was silent for a moment and then he began to speak very slowly and carefully, "I … apologize, Uncle Marcos. Steph and I … we meant no offense. I truly had planned to call you and Aunt Maribel after we completed the most recent … phase … of our business over at MacDill. I just … didn't think that we would be very good company until a few more days had passed. It's been somewhat … difficult."

Hmm. As far as I was concerned, this was _**not**_ good news. I hadn't realized that my grandson still had such strong ties to the military. I knew that many of the units which were stationed at MacDill AFB happened to be Special Forces. I didn't like the idea that Carlos was entangled with those organizations again. He never could talk about his past missions, but I know that he had escaped death many times. If Carlos was a cat, I'm sure that he would have used up all but the last of his nine lives by now. Perhaps this was the reason for Stephanie's pallor, too.

"It's okay, Carlos," I said. "I don't think I realized that you were coming here to go to the airbase. I thought you were just going to be in the city of Tampa, which is why I was upset about you leaving your uncle house and not contacting him for such a long period of time." Then I turned to Stephanie and said, "I am so sorry, Stephanie. Over the years, our family has become accustomed to not asking Carlos about his business on MacDill. We've accepted that we'll never know where he goes or what he does. I'm sure you'll get used to it soon enough." I patted her hand and … she broke into tears.

Carlos looked stricken and came around the table to comfort his wife. Nobody said anything as they excused themselves and went out to the veranda for a private conversation. When they returned to the sitting room, Marcos and Maribel and I behaved as though nothing had happened. Stephanie apologized for her outburst and then she accepted Maribel's offer for a walk in the front gardens. Marcos and I escorted Carlos into my son's private parlor to smoke cigars - and to talk.

**"So, Carlos,"** I began, switching back to Spanish, **"What is going on between you and Stephanie? When you left Miami, you both seemed very content. Why are you so unhappy now?"**

Carlos exhaled a thick plume of cigar smoke and shook his head. **"You both have had wives and daughters living under your roofs. I'm sure you've dealt with similar issues from time to time - every month, in fact."**

Marcos and I understood. Yes, we remembered the days of enduring monthly cycles of vastly swinging emotions with our womenfolk. Marcos had just survived Maribel's menopause the previous year, but it had been many years since I'd weathered such storms. Still, my heart went out to my grandson – obviously, he would have many more years of trying to be understanding and tender and loving toward his wife at these times. I felt guilty. Perhaps I shouldn't have insisted that Carlos and Stephanie come to dinner on this particular night and I told him so.

**"It's fine, Papí,"** Carlos shrugged. **"I'm pretty sure that today was her last day, but I didn't have a good date planned for tonight anyway, so it's just as well that we came here."

**"A good date?"** asked Marcos. **"Since when does a married man worry about good dates with his wife? You already won the prize, Carlos. You should relax and enjoy your victory!"**

Carlos looked embarrassed. **"Forget I said that. I don't want to talk about it."**

**"Oh, no, Nephew, you don't get off so easily,"** Marcos grinned lewdly at Carlos. **"Diego called me last week and he said that you and your lovely new wife could barely keep your hands off of each other when he flew you two down to Miami. He even told me about your initiation into the 'Mile High Club,' so now you have to explain this 'good date' stuff."**

I shook my head in disagreement with my son. **"Pay no attention to your fool of an uncle, Carlos. A _**good**_ husband never stops dating his wife. But I _**would**_ like for you to tell me more about the dates you've already taken Stephanie on since you've been here."** Then I grinned at my grandson to encourage him to begin talking.

Carlos hesitated and then he began to tell us about his adventures in Tampa. During his days, he had been working on some sort of recertification for jumping out of high-flying aircraft. I never could understand my grandson's enjoyment of the sport he called 'free-fall parachuting" any more than I could understand several of my sons' passions for flying various types of airplanes. I prefer being on the solid ground or the open ocean, but I'm happy to leave the skies to the birds.

Anyway, Carlos filled his nights with taking Stephanie out on nice dates practically every evening. Even though they seemed to be staying close to the airbase, they had eaten dinner at some of the nicest restaurants and bistros in Tampa. They had attended special evening programs at the aquarium and several art museums. They spent a full day at the Busch Gardens theme park and went on an evening safari. They laughed with the dressed-up "buccaneers" who "raided" the city during the annual Gasparilla Pirate Fest. Carlos had even taken his wife to a hockey game when her favorite team came to town. Actually, I was quite impressed with the variety of places that Carlos had taken his bride. Marcos, however, scoffed at Carlos' choices.

**"Those are teenager dates, Carlos! My grandsons can come up with better stuff than that!"** Marcos said. **"There was a full moon in the sky last week. You should have taken Stephanie for romantic walks in the moonlight. And dancing – you should have taken your sweetheart dancing, too. That always gets your passions up, right, Papa?"** My grandchildren and nieces and nephews usually call me Papí, but my children still call me Papa, of course.

**"Of course!"** I readily agreed with Marcos. **"You and Stephanie dance very well together, Carlos. Have you taken her out to some of the local clubs yet?"**

A muscle tightened in Carlos' jaw before he answered in a very tight voice, **"We went out on Valentine's Day, but I can't … we can't … do that sort of thing right now."**

**"Ridiculous!"** exclaimed Marcos. **"No wonder you're both so uptight. You just need to put a little salsa back in your step and that'll loosen things up a bit."** Then he swiveled his hips and leered at Carlos.

I nodded vigorously. **"Yes, of course! Take Stephanie out dancing again and then make love to her all night long. It will do you a world of good."**

Carlos angrily stubbed out his cigar and glared at us. Then he growled, **"I _**said**_ I don't want to talk about it!"**

Obviously, it was time for me to have a little one-on-one chat with my grandson. I glanced at my son and nodded toward the door. Marcos graciously excused himself from the room. I waited until he closed the door behind him and then I stared into Carlos' stormy eyes until he blinked and turned his face away from me. It was a game I never lost; the others _**always**_ blinked first.

**"I'm sorry, Papí,"** he said tiredly. **"I shouldn't have spoken to you and Uncle Marcos with such disrespect. I will apologize to him before I leave tonight."**

I nodded. **"That will be fine, my son. Now, tell me what's _**really**_ going on between you and Stephanie."**

Carlos shook his head, but then he began to speak slowly again. **"I can't explain everything to you, Papí, but Stephanie and I are in a … a treatment program to … to deal with the effects from my post-traumatic stress. We've been living in a … special facility where the doctors may … observe our … interactions and we … we've been … abstaining … for almost two weeks now. We'll have to wait for … certain test results before we can … be together again. It should be over soon."**

My eyebrows lifted of their own accord and I asked, **"Abstaining?" From sex? You and Stephanie? But why would you do such a foolish thing? And I thought Stephanie said that you two were staying in a townhouse. What's going on, Carlos?"**

**"It's part of my treatment,"** he replied. **"And the special facility looks like a townhouse, but, well, I know we're being observed all the time."**

**"My son, why would you subject yourself and your lovely wife to such treatment?"** I asked.

Carlos sighed and explained, **"Papí, when I was still on active duty as an Army Ranger, I went on a dangerous mission that really messed up my head. I barely made it out alive, but … part of me has been, well, dead since then."**

**"But Carlos, I've _**seen**_ you and Stephanie together and you're both very much _**alive**_,"** I protested. **"Whenever the two of you are together you practically ooze sensuality, whether you realize it or not. I've even overheard you making love to your wife when we were all aboard the _Batcave_."** His face reddened, so I quickly added, **"I didn't mean to hear you, but I had gone upstairs to talk to Túlio and when I passed by your cabin, well, all I can say as that you both sounded like _**everything**_ was in great working order."**

My grandson shook his head again and explained, **"But I'm not completely healthy yet – not inside my head, anyway. Look, I _**really**_ don't want to talk about this anymore. I think it's important that you know about my treatment and the real reasons Stephanie and I came down to Tampa. I trust that you will keep this to yourself, though. Honestly, Papí, I wasn't trying to be rude to Uncle Marcos and Aunt Maribel."**

I looked out of the window and gazed at the lights of the _Batcave_ for a moment before I turned back to Carlos and said, **"I'm glad to hear that you're finally getting help for your messed up head, my son. That's very good. I've been worried about you for a long time, you know."**

Carlos glanced sharply at me and asked, **"You have?"**

**"Yes,"** I nodded. **"I figured your surliness and loneliness were a direct result of the things that you had seen and done during your military missions. We all remember how terrible you looked when you came back to be with your Abuela Blanca before she died. In fact, you looked like you had been to Hell twice over and had barely made it back alive. It was as though _**you**_ should have been in a hospital bed yourself, but there you were, comforting your grandmother in her final moments. I was more worried about you than I was about her. She knew it was her time to go, but you –my God, Carlos, what a mess you were!"**

**"I didn't realize that you felt that way, Papí,"** Carlos said.

**"Carlos,"** I explained with as much gentleness as I could, **"Even though I respect your father Ricky very much, you must remember that _**I**_ have been both your Papí and your Papa over the years. You grew into manhood under _**my**_ roof. How could I not know more about you than you think I know? I'm just glad you're finally taking good care of yourself and that you now have such a wonderful woman by your side to help you."**

Carlos struggled to maintain control over his emotions. After a moment, he was able to speak again, but his voice was noticeably huskier. **"I don't like feeling weak. And I _**hate**_ the fact that I need such help now. I … I'm sorry if I'm a disappointment you, Papí."**

**"Perish the thought, my son!"** I replied firmly. **"I've always been proud of you. You have served your country well and faithfully. You are a man of great strength and integrity. You have _**never**_ been a disappointment to me or to this family. Never!"** Then I rose from my chair and hugged Carlos around his broad shoulders.

**"Thank you, Papí,"** Carlos rasped. **"That means a lot to me."**

I smiled and said, **"You probably don't remember, but I told both you and young Valentino a long time ago that real men are free to show their true emotions; they aren't afraid of what anybody else thinks of them. This is especially true of us Cubans. Yes, we are proud and obstinate, but we also long for freedom for our homeland. We've cried in anguish over the many losses, but we still hold our heads high and make the best of our current situations. I've always felt free to express my homesickness and frustrations and pain and yes, joy, in the music of the drums. Val told me that he feels free when he dances. You used to find freedom when you ran in your races, Carlos, but I think your military experiences caused you to lose your freedom for a long time. At least you now have chosen a mate who can help you find a new way to be free at last. Am I right?"**

**"Yes, Papí,"** Carlos nodded. **"I love Stephanie with everything that I am and everything that I'm trying to become. I just hope it's enough."**

I hugged him again and said, **"It will be, my son. It already is."** Then he stood up and gave me a proper hug.

**"Thank you, Papí,"** was all he said, but I knew he was really telling me, **"I love you, Papí."**

Holding Carlos at an arm's length I said, **"Come, let's go find your woman and we'll send you two off together. Perhaps you can return here after you and Stephanie have finished your … ah, treatment. I'll be staying here at Marcos' house until the end of April. Let me know if – no, _**when**_ - you want to take the _Batcave_ out fishing. In fact, you're more than welcome to come and stay aboard – after all, she's _**your**_ boat, too. Besides, Túlio can hardly wait to cook for your lovely Stephanie again."** This made my grandson smile. And then we went out to find everyone else.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Spring: Ranger's POV**

Dr. O'Neill pressed his lips together and Dr. Fiorelli gazed grimly at Stephanie and me through his thick, wire-rimmed glasses. It was the first day of April and we were well into our sixth week of couple's psychotherapy with Dr. Fiorelli. All throughout March we had given Dr. O'Neill sample after sample of our bodily fluids, but it had been a while since he had called us in to discuss our various test results. I was so tired of being poked and prodded and handled and talked to and talked about, that I was ready to punch the wall. There was a tense silence in the office while Stephanie and I waited for them to tell us the news – good or bad.

During our first few sessions with Dr. Fiorelli, Steph and I had filled out several questionnaires and surveys. The shrink now knew more about our intimate life than we probably knew ourselves – especially since we had to answer most of the questions separately and we weren't supposed to discuss our responses with each other. After several sessions, we began to understand all the psychology behind my negative reactions to Steph's lovemaking and we had discussed many possible strategies for dealing with my control issues, but we still hadn't gotten around to actually solving the problems. It nearly drove me crazy!

Honestly, the past month and a half had not been very pleasant. I don't know what I had expected after Steph and I abandoned the comfort and luxury of my Uncle Marcos' waterfront home and allowed Dr. Fiorelli to place us in a government hotel located on the airbase for almost two weeks, but it was worse than I had imagined it could be. Our hotel room was completely infested with surveillance "bugs." I hated knowing that every facet of our life was under constant observation. When the shrink relocated us into a nicely-appointed townhouse in a gated community not too far from the airbase, it didn't take me very long to discover that the new place was completely bugged, also.

At first, my Babe thought it was funny – like we were in a big, comfy, people-version of Rex's hamster habitat. In fact, she soon forgot that there were more cameras and microphones here than in any of the safe-houses that RangeMan owned. But I never forgot – and, as a result, I never fully relaxed. Steph and I were like lab rats and I was totally unnerved by the knowledge that our conversations and activities were being monitored and analyzed on a daily basis.

At the beginning of March, Dr, Fiorelli gave us a "homework assignment" of sorts. He told me to let Stephanie be the initiator of all our sexual encounters. I wasn't allowed to start anything or take control at all. Of course, this made my Babe extremely happy and for the first few days, she completely took advantage of the situation. On the one hand, this gave me new insight into what Steph _**really**_ liked to do and I filed away plenty of mental notes for future use. On the other hand – and I'm not complaining, mind you - I found it very frustrating not to be in charge and there were a few times when I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Carlos," Steph whispered into my ear during one of my lapses.

"Mmm, Babe?" I murmured as I kissed and nibbled at the soft skin of her neck.

"I think you've done it again," she replied, barely containing a moan of satisfaction.

"Done what?" I asked and I continued to kiss my way down her body.

She gently pushed against my chest and sighed, "You've taken control, that's what. _**I'm**_ supposed to be on top, remember?"

It took a moment for my Babe's words to register in my brain. Then I rolled both of us over on the bed and positioned her so that she was straddling me. "There!" I said triumphantly, "Now you're on top." And my fingers gently massaged and tweaked all the places where my lips had just been.

Steph glared down at me and replied in an almost cool tone, "Yes … but I don't think this should count because it still feels like _**you're**_ in control here."

Truthfully, I was at a loss for words, but I managed to eke out a meaningful, "Babe."

Our almost-disagreement didn't prevent us from making love that night, but I knew that my Babe felt I had robbed her of control. The next few times, I struggled hard to make sure that I didn't take charge of the situation. Part of me really liked the way that Steph initiated and carried out our sex life. She really was amazing and she always made me feel like a king. Still, it was one of the most annoying weeks of my life. I didn't know then that there was something even _**worse**_ soon to come after that.

The morning after the last day of "Stephanie-is-the-boss" week - _**and**_ after more than a few intense counseling sessions on my control issues - Dr. Fiorelli called us into his office and said, "I know this past week was rather challenging for you Carlos, but now I want you two to abstain from sexual intercourse for the next seven days. I want you to just go out on dates this week - regular dates, like regular people who are just getting to know each other better. And _**don't**_ fall into bed with each other at the end of the night. Here is a journal for each of you, in which I want you to record your feelings, frustrations, et cetera. You may resume normal relations after you complete this assignment."

I couldn't believe it! I had barely made it through our last "assignment" and now the shrink was asking me to do the nearly-impossible task of not making love to my Babe for the next week. I curled my lip at the spiral-bound notebook the doctor had offered to me. To hell with that! All week long, I had fantasized and plotted and planned the different ways that I was going to drive Steph wild once I was in charge again. I had no intention of writing down my fantasies – I wanted to live them. This part of our therapy was a load of crap! Thankfully, my Babe was thinking the same way that I was about it and she spoke up immediately.

"That doesn't make any sense, Dr. Fiorelli!" Stephanie protested. "Carlos and I just finished a week with me being in charge of our sex life. _**That**_ was difficult enough for him to handle! I mean, I might be able to understand this abstinence scheme if we were still single or something, but we're _**married**_. And writing a bunch of stuff about our feelings is lame! Why should we do such a thing?"

The doctor remained infuriatingly calm and explained, "In this part of your therapy, you'll be denying each other something you clearly enjoy and desire the most in your relationship: physical intimacy. By recording your thoughts and feelings, you'll be able to reflect on what's really important in your relationship. When you're finally allowed to have intercourse again, the hope is that whatever control issues or psychological inhibitions Carlos may have about certain types of touches, his overwhelming need for you most likely will prevent him from having another negative episode associated with his PTSD. It'll only be for the next seven days; I'm sure you can do this."

Steph narrowed her eyes and said, "I hate to break this to you, doctor, but by the end of our assignment this week, my … … uh, my period will be here and, well, we usually don't have sex during that time, anyway. Why can't we delay this part of our therapy until I get my period– when it won't really matter all that much?"

The shrink considered this information and a faraway look settled on his face. "Hmm … two weeks. I don't believe any of my professional colleagues has ever asked a married couple to go without sex for that long," he said. "Carlos, Stephanie - I think you can do it. Yes! I want you two to just be friends with each other for the next _**two**_ weeks. Not friends with benefits – just friends."

"Are you crazy?" exclaimed Stephanie. "Surely, you don't want us to go without sex for almost two weeks straight! Been there, done that, hated it. Doctor, Carlos and I were 'just friends' for a _**long**_ time before we got married. And trust me; we didn't have very many 'benefits' for a _**really**_ long time."

Dr. Fiorelli continued to grin as he looked down at his desk and paged through his notes. When he found what he was looking for, he glanced back up at us and said, "Um … that's not entirely true, Stephanie. According to the information you both gave me in our first few sessions, you both admitted that you were able to meet your sexual needs in other ways. You, Carlos, went for a very long time without actual intercourse. You utilized a tremendous amount of physical exercise and sometimes you took several cold showers a day in order to dampen your libido. And you, Stephanie, had an ongoing sexual relationship with another man."

"What's _**that**_ got to do with anything?" Steph snapped. "In the end, I _**chose**_ to be with Carlos and we're very happy with the way things are!"

"Good! Then you shouldn't have any problems going out on dates," said the doctor. "That part of your assignment is just as important as the abstinence."

I could almost see the angry steam flowing out of Steph's ears as she fumed, "All last week, when I was in charge of things, I don't think we went out on _**any**_ dates and we were fine. Doctor, I'm not one of those high-maintenance women – dating was never really part of the equation between me and Carlos. I don't know whether it ever will be, either!"

Dr. Fiorelli silently glanced at both of us for a moment and then continued, "Be that as it may, the fact still remains that neither of you approached your current marriage relationship with much in the way of romance; therefore, you don't have much in the way of romantic memories to draw upon. There's no mention of candlelit dinners for two at a favorite restaurant or going out to see a show or even doing fun activities with other couples. Most of your so-called dates actually have been add-ons to your various work situations."

Sadly, that much was true. I didn't like what I'd just heard as the doctor described my relationship with Stephanie so far. I had taken advantage of every opportunity that I'd had with my Babe over the years – setting up for distraction jobs, getting cozy whenever we shared a bed for safety's sake, and all the stolen kisses during my times of weakness. Crap! The doctor's assessment was dead-on. Except for the few romance-filled days in Miami, right before we got married, most of the "so-called dates" I'd taken Steph on _**were**_ somehow tied to work-related events. I understood that I needed to fix the situation ASAP.

Steph's temper was still boiling and she demanded answers. "What's so wrong about the way we've done things so far? Carlos and I worked together a lot before we got married. That's how we got to know each other so well. We _**still**_ work together. We're partners. We're best friends. We're _**married**_! So what if we didn't really date? Seriously, _**I**_ don't care about all that stuff!"

"Babe," I started to say something to calm her down, but Dr. Fiorelli interrupted me.

"Stephanie, Carlos, please hear me out," the shrink said patiently as he explained. "In positive-sensory-memory-replacement therapy, we have to build up layers of different memories for Carlos to draw upon when the two of you engage in certain sexual activities. Ever since he completed his solo sessions, we've been working on the things that trigger his negative memories. If the majority of his experiences with you, Stephanie, are work-related in any way, then specific types of physical contact may trigger another unpleasant episode of post-traumatic stress. I know you don't want that to keep happening, so you need to fix this issue – replace the bad memories with lots of good ones - before you move on to the next phase of treatment."

"But we've been on regular dates before, haven't we?" Stephanie asked as she turned toward me with a desperate look on her face. Obviously, she wasn't looking forward to taking cold showers for the next two weeks, either.

I covered her small white hand with my own large brown one and offered her the only solace I could think of at that moment. "Well, Babe, I've been meaning to show you more of Tampa, anyway. Now I won't have any excuse not to do it. Besides, as you already said, at least one of our abstinence weeks is during your period, when you'll barely let me touch you, anyway."

"Ugh! You're not supposed to agree with _**him**_!" She rolled her eyes and grunted, even as her face turned a bright pink.

Dr. Fiorelli smiled. "You'll just have to trust me on this. It's a very effective form of couple's therapy. In time, you two will thank me for 'prescribing' that you go out on a bunch of dates. You might be surprised at how things turn out after you've gone without sex for a while."

"I hate surprises! I hate writing stuff in journals! And I hate this therapy!" Steph growled at me. Then she turned toward Dr. Fiorelli and lashed out, "We're already living in this … this hotel facility of yours. Exactly how are we supposed to manage not having sex while we're living in such a small space together? Please don't tell me that you've booked us into separate rooms, either. I wouldn't be able to stand it!"

"Ah, yes, about your living arrangements," the doctor replied smoothly, "I took the liberty of asking if you two could stay at the private home of one of my associates, Dr. Sharon Lambert. She's a Navy doctor, currently deployed on a hospital ship in the Persian Gulf. My wife and I live in the same neighborhood. The townhouse has two bedrooms – each with its own separate bathroom. Dr. Lambert also works with PTSD patients and she gave us permission to house special guests there as needed. How does that sound?"

Even then, I thought it sounded too good to be true – too convenient, too contrived. I was sure that this new set-up would be just as "buggy" as our government hotel room had been, and I was right. It was impossible for me to voice my opinions without alerting the doctor that I was aware of his surveillance of us, but I nodded toward Stephanie to let her know that I was fine with the new arrangement. Still, she scowled at Dr. Fiorelli. My Babe was trying hard to think of a way out of this, but we both knew she'd never win a battle of wills with this military shrink. Finally, Steph grudgingly agreed to the doctor's offer.

"Good," Dr. Fiorelli nodded his approval. "Now that that's settled, let's get you moved in. This way, your two weeks of abstinence can begin immediately. Although there's no room service at the townhouse, there's plenty of food in the fridge and I think you'll really like the neighborhood."

That was how we ended up in the townhouse facility. Fortunately, Steph and I really did like the neighborhood. It was a gated community, just a few miles north of the airbase, and there were plenty of amenities. I was happy about the small weight room and the running trails and Steph was overjoyed about the comfortable lounge chairs around the community swimming pool. Even though I'd quickly have to come up with plans for some good "platonic" dates, I knew that it would be best for my Babe and me to spend a lot of time apart. So, for the next two weeks, I worked on improving my five-mile run times and Steph continued to work on her tan.

The townhouse was nicely decorated in typical Florida style with lots of pastel colors and tropical floral patterns. There was a one-car garage and a den on the ground level. The kitchen and living room, as well as a small study and powder room, were on the next level up the stairs. Two large bedrooms, each with its own full bathroom and walk-in closet, occupied the top level. Everything felt very girly, but I knew I would be able to survive it. Actually, our stay wouldn't have been so terrible if the whole place hadn't been infested with tiny, mostly-hidden surveillance cameras and microphones.

Of course, we figured out pretty quickly that the constant monitoring wreaked havoc on my sense of well-being. I hated knowing that the doctor was observing everything we did and everything we said while we were inside the bugged townhouse. Then, while I was out running on the jogging path one morning, I spotted a small camera attached to a tree branch and it occurred to me that there probably was surveillance equipment all around this supposed neighborhood. I began to despise our situation and my foul moods reflected that.

The first week of abstinence was sheer torture. I eventually ended up spending most of every day at the airbase, working on my recertification as a military free-fall instructor, as well as doing extreme physical workouts so that I would be too tired for sex after our dates. Yeah, right. Every evening, I took my Babe out to a different restaurant or location and I guess _**she**_ had a lot of fun. It took every shred of concentration I possessed to focus only on Steph's nose or the top of her head or her fingernails. If I looked anywhere else on her body, especially into her beautiful blue eyes, the pain of denying myself was almost too much to bear. Returning to my old habit of taking cold showers was pure hell.

It came as no surprise that my Babe's period arrived right on schedule. Unfortunately, on the next-to-the-last day of her cycle, my grandfather, Papí Súarez called me on my cell phone and chewed me out for not being at my Uncle Marcos' house when he arrived there for a visit. Then he demanded that Steph and I come to dinner that evening. It was a very tense time. Overall, I had almost convinced myself that we were doing okay. That is, until Uncle Marcos asked Steph some stupid questions about what would happen when she and I had children, as well as her new life married to a man with lots of secrets, and she broke down, crying pitifully.

Steph was was completely overcome by her emotions. Apparently, the two-week abstinence, as well as her period, had worn down her last nerve, too, and she just couldn't control herself any longer. Aunt Maribel took Steph out into the gardens for some fresh air and I went with my uncle and grandfather for a little chat. I usually try not to give in to the urge to smoke, but this was an emergency and I accepted the top-quality Cuban cigar with gratitude. Of course, I couldn't tell them about any of my real problems, but when I did confide that it was Steph's "time of the month" they became quite sympathetic toward me.

The fine cigar from my uncle's private stock did wonders for my attitude, but eventually, I ended up speaking to my grandfather alone. After our private conversation, I felt much better than I had in a long time. The rich tobacco had a calming effect on me; suddenly, I was able to remember that life with my Babe was _**good**_ and it was looking even better by the minute! I almost began to look forward to our next appointment with Dr. Fiorelli, when I expected that he would tell us to resume our normal sexual routines. It took another surge of extreme willpower for me to turn down my uncle's offer of a few spare cigars.

"Well, Stephanie, you are looking much better now," Uncle Marcos remarked when the women returned from their walk in the gardens. "I suppose Maribel lifted your spirits by showing you all of her recent replanting efforts. Every time I turn around, something is in a different place in the garden. Hopefully, she will leave everything alone until after our granddaughter's quinceañero party."He laughed and, to my surprise, Aunt Maribel laughed with him.

"Change is the spice of life," she declared. "I know my Marcos likes it when I shake things up a bit around here. It's not as though he really cares whether I plant another row of red or white flowers on this side or that side of the garden. He just knows that changing things around makes me very, very happy." Her smile was genuine – and surprisingly flirtatious.

Then Uncle Marcos grabbed his wife around her tiny waist – she appeared to be in excellent physical condition – and he held her tightly against him, kissing her soundly and deeply, right in front of us. Dios! I could feel the waves of passion rolling off of them and I lusted after my Babe more than ever. When did all the older people in my family become so outwardly flirtatious? Their wanton ways were killing me!

When Uncle Marcos finally broke off the kiss, he winked at us and said, "A long time ago, I learned that when my Maribel is very, very happy, I get to be very, very happy, too. Right, Papa? Isn't that what you always taught us? 'Keep your wife happy and your life will be so much easier to handle.' That's what you used to tell us boys."

"Ah, young love. It is almost too beautiful to watch," Papí said in a dreamy voice. Then he suddenly announced to all of us, "It is time for me to retire for the evening, my children. Stephanie and Carlos, I look forward to seeing you again very soon, whenever you have time to drop by. Marcos and Maribel, try not to make too much noise tonight, all right? An old man like me needs peace and quiet in order to get a good night's rest."

Uncle Marcos grinned slyly and said, "If you want peace and quiet, old man, get back on your boat."

"Ah, such rudeness!" Papí shook his head in mock sorrow. "I don't know where I went wrong with my sons. Back in my day-"

"Back in your day," Uncle Marcos interrupted with a bark of laughter, "You and Mami were never very quiet, either!"

Papí feigned shock and placed his hand over his heart. Then he grinned at us and said, "On that note, I shall prepare to dream of my sweet, innocent Blanca all night long. If you hear noises coming from my bedroom, please don't wake me. My dreams are the only time I get to see her anymore." And with that, he jauntily saluted us and strolled down the hallway toward the guest suite where he was staying.

I turned to my aunt and uncle and thanked them for the nice evening. "I promise we'll visit again before we leave town, Uncle Marcos."

Aunt Maribel answered, "You know that you're always welcome to stay with us again, if – and when – you choose to do so."

"Thank you," I said.

"Yes, thank you very much," added Steph. "I'd _**love**_ to stay here with you again." And I realized that she really meant it. Both of us were tired of being under Dr. Fiorelli's watchful ears and eyes.

After we said our farewells, I ushered my Babe out of the front door and back to our borrowed car. She was silent during the short drive back to the townhouse. After I parked the car in the garage and we trudged up the two flights of stairs to go to our separate bedrooms, we both turned toward each other and gazed longingly at each other. Our routine for the past thirteen days had been that we kissed goodnight in the hallway and then quickly disappeared into our rooms before anything more could happen. The expression on Steph's face mirrored my feelings exactly.

"Ranger," she quietly rasped, "I know that Dr. Fiorelli will know whether or not we've cheated and slept together. But, at this point, I simply don't care. I just need to fall asleep in your arms again – no sex involved."

Nodding slowly, I murmured, "We've certainly done _**that**_ before."

"Lots of times," she smiled wistfully. "Too many times."

"_**Way **_too many times," I agreed. And then I clamped down hard on my emotions. I would _**not**_ fail to complete my mission here. "But we've almost made it the whole two weeks, Babe. I think we've had a lot of … ah, close calls during our friendly dates. At this point – period or no period - I don't think I could be in the same bed with you and not rip your clothes off. It's only one more day, Steph. Let's just go our separate ways tonight. I'm going to take my cold shower now. I suggest you do the same." Crap! I was babbling. I _**never**_ babble!

It was a good thing that Dr. Fiorelli prescribed only two weeks of "platonic dating" and sexual abstinence for me and Steph. I thought I was going to go stark raving mad! I mean, it's one thing to want something that's mostly forbidden – like when I lusted after my Babe while she was still dating Morelli. But it's an entirely different thing to want something that's totally yours already – like your _**wife**_ – and not be allowed to have her, even if she's standing right in front of you, or worse, sleeping in a bed across the hall.

Knowing that I had to remove myself from my Babe's intoxicating presence ASAP, I kissed the tip of her cute little nose and quickly disappeared behind the door to my bedroom. Then I locked the door behind me before I could change my mind. Sadly, the cold shower did absolutely nothing to dampen my libido and my dreams were filled with visions of my naked Babe. Damn! This part of our therapy truly sucked!

Two days later, as we sat in the living room of the townhouse, Dr. Fiorelli congratulated us on being the _**only**_ married couple in his care ever to complete not just one, but _**two**_ full weeks of abstinence – everyone else had cheated along the way. Somehow, this was not encouraging news for me. For most of my life, I had been somewhat of a rule-breaker. Now I felt like a complete fool – or worse, a naïve jerk – for following the rules this time and depriving myself and my Babe of the physical closeness we craved.

The shrink had arrived on our doorstep while we were finishing our breakfast of toasted bagels with cream cheese and fresh fruit, as well as the handfuls of special vitamins that Dr. O'Neill had prescribed for us to take every morning. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Dr. Fiorelli must have been listening for the right moment to ring the doorbell. He grinned at us when he presented us with a box of condoms and announced that our time of abstinence was over. Then he gave us specific instructions to go upstairs immediately, where Steph should to attempt to make love to me with her hands and mouth again. He would be on stand-by to help us if things went bad.

Needless to say, Steph and I practically flew up the stairs and into my bedroom. We quickly decided to go into the shower, where there weren't any tiny cameras - and the nearest listening device was located within the medicine cabinet. Steph and I both lathered up and when we were clean, she crouched down in front of me, wrapped her harms around my legs to steady herself, and loved me like I'd never been loved before. This time, I didn't think about El Lagarto or his filthy hands and mouth. All my thoughts were only of my Babe, giving me a precious gift.

Good thing I no longer cared about my dignity in this ordeal. I was so happy; I think I might have cried, so I was glad we were in the shower. It didn't matter to me what the doctor might have heard while he waited for us downstairs, but as soon as I was able, I took control of the situation and made love to Stephanie until the water began to run cold. Our personal body heat was enough to keep us warm, anyway. It just felt so good to be totally united with my Babe again. Inside my head, I secretly vowed never to agree to go without sex ever again – unless, of course, it was for Steph's health and welfare.

We took our sweet time drying off and getting dressed. Thankfully, we had discovered that there weren't any cameras in the walk-in closets, either so we were safe from direct observation for several minutes while we had another quickie between the racks of clothes. I was sorely tempted to toss my Babe onto the bed and go for a round of comfortable lovemaking, but I knew that Steph would consider it rude of us to keep the doctor waiting any longer. To his credit, Dr. Fiorelli didn't make any snide or crude comments about our activities when we finally returned to the living room.

"That seems to have gone very well," remarked the doctor.

I couldn't take it anymore and I snapped, "Have you enjoyed listening in our private lives, Dr. Fiorelli?"

The corners of his mouth turned upward and he replied, "It's all in a day's work. Besides, Carlos, we both know that you've been able to compensate for all the surveillance equipment and carve out some privacy. I'm not surprised, though, especially given your line of work."

I scowled at him and said, "I already checked the county property records, so I know this place really belongs to a Dr. Sharon Lambert – on paper, that is. But I'll eat my Navy SEALS cap if this is her _**actual**_ home. No one could live in a place with this many 'bugs' installed!"

Dr. Fiorelli grinned and said, "Your cap is safe for another day. And you're right, Carlos. This place truly does belong to my good friend and co-worker, Dr. Lambert. She's a behavioral scientist and she uses the house primarily as a research facility to study human interactions. In fact, Sharon's not actually deployed at this time."

"Surprise, surprise," I remarked dryly.

Dr. Fiorelli continued, "Actually, Dr. Lambert has been the main observer during your stay and she'll be here within the hour to speak with you two. She's working on her second doctoral degree, focusing on the physiological and psychological effects of short-term sexual abstinence between married couples."

"Short term?" I scoffed. Anger and annoyance welled up inside of me, but it was Stephanie who really voiced our concerns.

"Hey!" Steph protested, "I don't recall signing up for any type of friggin' behavioral whatever research project, Dr. Fiorelli," she said.

He smiled blandly at us and replied, "I assure you that you did, Stephanie. The release form was among the documents you signed when you first came to my office. I'll be happy to show you your signature, if you like."

"Hmph!" Steph sniffed. "How was I supposed to know? There were tons of papers in that pile and you know it! I guess you shrinks think you're so smart with all your hidden cameras and stuff. Well, I'll tell you right now: I'm never signing anything ever again unless our lawyer has read it first." Then she turned to me and asked, "We _**do**_ have a lawyer, don't we, Carlos?"

"Babe," was all I could say. As a soldier first and then as a government employee, I had given up most of my expectations of privacy long ago.

"It's all for the best, Stephanie," Dr. Fiorelli's voice sounded reassuring again. "I know that, based on our observations and the data we've collected here this month, we will be able to help many other couples. Don't you think that's worth all the effort? In fact, your participation in this effort is highly likely to become the foundation of some very important future therapies."

The shrink didn't bat an eye when I told him what he could do with that particular piece of news, nor did he protest when I informed him that Stephanie and I would be moving into a hotel for the next few days. He merely explained that he believed our recent sexual success that morning had been due to the closeness – and yes, the desperation - we had developed while we spent purely platonic time together. He also complimented us on the tremendous progress we had made in our counseling sessions. I just wanted it all to be over and I told him so.

"The bottom line is this," he explained, "I think you'll only need to see me once every other week for the next four weeks, and then, two weeks after that, we'll probably need only one or two more sessions to wrap up everything. Of course, there are a few more surveys to fill out and I'm sure that Dr. Lambert will want to interview you a few times, too. Depending on how things proceed from this day forward, I predict that I'll be able to release you from my care sometime between the middle and the end of May. Ah, here's Dr. Lambert now." And we all turned toward the foyer as a woman entered through the unlocked front door.

Dr. Sharon Lambert was a tall, sharp-looking, professional Navy officer, with short, mousy brown hair and gray-green hazel eyes. She introduced herself and thanked us for our participation in her behavioral study. Apparently, her so-called home was also equipped with a large number of specialized sensors, which had picked up all sorts of biofeedback from us. Steph and I had provided her with a wealth of information. Obviously, the woman was single, and I felt sorry for any poor sap she might invite into her house/research facility for a nightcap.

During our brief meeting with Dr. Lambert, she assured us that only she had access to the recordings of our interactions and that, in accordance with the documents we already had signed, those recordings would be destroyed by the end of the calendar year. This would give her the opportunity to write up her report and publish her findings. We grudgingly agreed to meet with her again at her office the following week. Finally, we returned her house keys and left the condo complex as quickly as possible.

Steph and I certainly made up for lost time. We loaded our luggage and assorted junk into our borrowed cars and drove into downtown Tampa, where I had made reservations at the Westin, which overlooked the harbor. We didn't leave our hotel room for two whole days. When we finally emerged, we made love in the car, on the beach and pretty much anywhere else that I could be sure the place wasn't bugged. Once we got the first few lusty days out of our system, we moved back into my Uncle Marcos' guest house, which made everyone very happy, especially Papí, with whom we were able to join on a few weekend fishing trips aboard the _Batcave_.

Although we had made progress on the psychological front, it was more difficult to determine whether or not I'd had much success on the physiological front – especially during our two-week's time of abstinence. Actually, I was beginning to feel a bit sluggish. Since I didn't have any of my regular RangeMan sparring partners here in Tampa, I had to settle for working out with whoever was at the gym on any given day. Nevertheless, I followed Doc O'Neill's orders and I made sure that Steph did, too. Dios! This wasn't easy.

While I continued to follow the specific diet that Dr. O'Neill had prescribed for me, Stephanie continued to cheat on her recommended diet. In all fairness, between all of our restaurant dates, my uncle's cook and my grandfather's chef, my Babe was very well-fed. When I discreetly rubbed my thumbs over her slightly-developing "love handles" one night, she suddenly began to follow her diet more faithfully. She even ate all of her vegetables and fruits! And as much as my Babe hated to exercise, she obviously loved me more, and so she was able to get into the best shape she'd ever been in her entire life.

Therefore, on that first day of April, after everything Stephanie and I had endured and accomplished, it was with almost as much dread as anticipation that we waited to receive the news from Dr. O'Neill. As usual, I had already collected and turned in that morning's body fluid samples and now we were waiting to see the results. Deep down inside, I honestly felt that a real man should be able to father a child, and if my body couldn't do that, then I would burn with shame forever. It didn't matter that I already had fathered Julie. It didn't even matter that Steph and I weren't _**ready**_ to be parents yet. I only knew that I wouldn't be happy if it turned out that we still weren't _**able**_ to be parents.

Also, I was afraid that, despite all the psychotherapy sessions, all the exercise programs, all the specialized diet food and vitamins, and all the pineapple everything, perhaps nothing had worked. What if my sperm count had essentially remained the same as when we had arrived in Tampa – that is, nonexistent? How could I return to my men – the ones who knew about my condition - and look them in the eye, knowing that they would forever pity me for being less of a man than they were? I felt my Babe thread her fingers through mine in a gesture of reassurance as she moved closer to me on the sofa in front of Doc O'Neill's desk.

I noticed the worried look in both of the doctors' eyes as they glanced at each other. Dr. Fiorelli usually didn't intrude upon our visits with Dr. O'Neill, so I figured the news must not be good. Their faces remained ominously glum as Doc O'Neill pushed a lab report across the desk toward me and gestured for me to read it for myself. I scanned the numbers on the page once, twice, three times and again. I couldn't believe my eyes! The latest test results clearly showed that my sperm count was barely within the normal range, but it was _**normal**_.

"Is this a joke?" I asked. "Are you _**sure**_ these test results are accurate? I mean, you both looked like you were bracing yourselves to deliver _**bad**_ news to us this afternoon."

Dr. O'Neill smiled sheepishly and announced, "April Fools!" Then he shrugged apologetically and said. "I apologize, Carlos, but my comedian of a colleague here _**tried**_ to badger me into giving you a false bad report first. Of course, I refused to participate in such a tactless joke." He glowered at Dr. Fiorelli and then he turned back toward us. "Nevertheless, I did agree to put on a somber expression until after you'd had a chance to look at the results for yourselves."

I pointed to the paper and asked, "So … this _**isn't**_ a joke? This is the real deal?"

"Absolutely," Doc O'Neill nodded, his grin widening with every moment that passed, "Congratulations to both of you! Yes, your sperm count is on the low side of normal and the swimmers still appear to be a little sluggish, but they're there in force now and I'm sure they'll find their target someday."

Dr. Fiorelli grinned at us and said, "I sure hope you've been using that big box of condoms I gave you last week."

Steph nearly crushed my hand as her grip tightened and she exclaimed, "Wait! What's the date on those test results?"

"Oh, sometime last week," Doc O'Neill replied before I could look down at the date on the report. "Why?"

The color drained from my Babe's face and I suddenly felt a buzzing sound in my head as I tried to process this unwelcome revelation. I know it was stupid of me, especially because I really wanted to be able to father children again, but I felt a cold shiver of fear trickle down my spine. Of course Steph and I hadn't used any of the condoms. We _**never**_ used condoms. The box that Dr. Fiorelli had given to us was still unopened and I had shoved into the bottom of one of my suitcases.

Obviously, both Dr. O'Neill and Dr. Fiorelli understood the implications of our facial expressions. They waited a few moments and then I glanced down at the paper. My eyes narrowed and I glanced up just in time to see the smirk on the shrink's face. Steph noticed my silent stand-off with him. Then she took a closer look at the date of the test and saw that we had been misled. Much to my Babe's relief – and mine, too, I must admit - the results were from the samples I had collected and given to the lab earlier that morning.

After Steph looked up from the lab report, she said dryly, "Let me guess-"

And then she and I and both doctors all exclaimed in unison, "April Fools!"

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Summer: Julie's POV**

This year I had, like, the best spring break _**ever**_! My family got to go to Tampa for, like, almost the whole week. First we all went to Busch Gardens for a couple of days. My biological dad – Ranger - and his wife Stephanie even joined us for an evening safari tour there. Then we stayed at, like, a really nice hotel downtown for a few days and went on a bunch of day trips, including to, like, St. Petersburg to go to the beach. It was my first trip to a Gulf Coast beach and it was, like, so cool! And right before we returned to Miami, we went to a quinceañero party for one of the many cousins I never knew I had.

Professional counseling has really helped my mom out, like, a whole lot and I'm real glad I called Ranger for his help in making it happen. Ever since that time when he and Stephanie talked to my mom, she's been, like, letting me and my brother and sister do some of the things we used to do. We still can't play on our old soccer teams like we did before and all, but my sister and I are taking dance classes again. My brother is taking guitar lessons, too. Mom seems to be okay with us doing stuff outside of our house now – just as long as it's, like, indoor stuff. Sounds weird, but trust me, my life doesn't suck nearly as much as it used to.

This year is definitely much better than last year. I could hardly believe it when Mom and Dad announced that we were, like, actually going to take a trip during our spring break. I know it's only because the family counselor told them to do it, but that's okay by me. And I overheard my parents discussing the possibility of me, like, going up to New Jersey for two weeks this summer to visit with Ranger and Stephanie. I'm not going to get my hopes up too high, but that would be the very best!

You see, there was, like, this weird thing that happened at my school earlier this year. I'm in sixth grade and all the girls in my class have been drooling over this really cute boy named Ricky Gonzalez. He didn't go to the same elementary school as me and we didn't have any classes together, but my best friend noticed that Ricky kept, like, staring at me whenever we passed each other in the hallway and I got all excited. Finally, I got up the nerve to talk to him by the water fountain and that's when the weird thing happened that freaked out my parents and, like, everybody else.

"Hi, my name is Julie Martine," I introduced myself. "I've noticed you … um, like, staring at me."

He smiled this totally gorgeous smile at me and said, "Yeah, I've been trying to meet you, Rachel. My name's Ricky Gonzalez." My insides melted and then it was like he dropped a bomb on me when he said, "We're cousins."

"W-w-wait!" I stammered like an idiot. "We're w-w-what?"

"Cousins, chica," Ricky repeated. "Long story short, your dad – your real dad, Carlos Mañoso – is first cousins with my dad, Pedro Gonzalez. They have the same grandfather, Papí Suarez, which means that _**we**_ have the same great-grandfather, too. My dad and Papí told me that they met you at your father's wedding reception back in November. Cool, huh?"

Not cool. "H-how did you know about my real father?" I asked.

Ricky stared at me in disbelief and replied in a quiet voice, "My dad told me. And it was all in the newspapers last year. I'm glad your father and your new stepmother were able to rescue you from that whacked-out kidnapper dude, even though you were the one who had to do the shooting. We heard that things were pretty rough for you for a while."

Now I was, like, really confused. The details about me shooting Edward Scrog had never been released to the public. There was no way that some cute guy in my middle school should have known about all this. I was getting, like, seriously freaked out.

"We? Who is 'we' and how did you know that?" I demanded from Ricky and his face turned serious.

"Our _**family**_," he replied as though I ought to, like, know about this. "My dad and your dad have a security business called RangeMan - they're business partners. They even partly own one of the hottest clubs in South Beach with some other Súarez cousins. You ever heard of '_Caliente!_'? I take tumba lessons from Papí Súarez there."

I shook my head in disbelief and asked, "How _**exactly**_ are we related again?"

Ricky smiled again and explained, "My Abuela Margarita and your Abuela Gloria are sisters. All of _**their**_ brothers have the last name of Súarez – you know, like Súarez Euro Motorcars with five locations in the state of Florida and New York? I'm sure you've seen the ads on TV. Those are our relatives. Both Elias Jimenez-Súarez and Yasmin Súarez in the eighth grade are our cousins, too. But don't expect them to talk to us lowly sixth-graders. Elias takes tumba lessons with me and he still treats me like I'm some random little kid whenever he sees me."

My connection to this well-known, wealthy family, as well as to some of the most popular kids in my school was definitely news to me. I was, like, totally blown away by everything that Ricky had told me. We exchanged home phone numbers, since, like, neither of us had our own cell phones yet, and I hurried off to my next class. When my mom picked me up from school that afternoon and I told her all about meeting my cousin, she, like, nearly swerved off the road. She made me wait until we were almost home before she began to explain.

"Sweetheart," Mom began – she always called me that when we were going to have, like, a serious talk, "I always meant to tell you about … about how large Ranger's family is. You met a lot of them in New Jersey last year after the … the incident, but there are many more relatives down here in Florida. It's just that their names aren't Mañoso; they're mostly members of the Súarez family. In fact, you met some of them, as well as your great-grandfather, Papí Suarez, at Ranger and Stephanie's wedding, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" I exclaimed. "But how come nobody ever told me that I'm actually related to the cutest boy in my whole class? What if we had really started to … um … like each other … or something? That would've been, like, so _**gross**_!"

"Wait a minute!" Mom said as she pulled the car into our driveway. "Are you really upset over a … a _**boy**_? Julie, you're much too young to worry about boys right now!"

"It's not just that, Mom," I tried to keep the whininess out of my voice, but it was too hard. "It's the whole thing of, like, not knowing much about the rest of my family. I want to know – no, I _**need**_ to know – who these people are!"

Mom sighed and nodded. "I'll make some calls. Next time Ranger is in town, maybe he can take you to meet some more of his relatives. They're everywhere – you'll see."

So, when we got to Tampa for our spring break and found out about this cousin who was having her quinceañero party, my parents decided that it would, like, be alright if we went to it – especially because I'd be able to meet _**more**_ of my cousins. First, though, Stephanie took me and my mom and my sister shopping for something real nice to wear to the party. In the few months that she and Ranger had been staying in Tampa, Stephanie really had learned her way around the city. All of us were able to find pretty dresses – mine was turquoise blue with a wide white belt around the middle - and Stephanie insisted that we, like, let her pay for everything.

This might sound lame, but that evening, I decided that I loved watching my parents dance – that's right, _**all**_ of my parents. My mom and dad have always been silly – salsa dancing around the kitchen and the living room at home. What can I say? They live to embarrass me! But this was, like, only the second time I had seen the Dynamic Duo dancing and they looked so happy together. I know it's corny, but they really are sort of like Batman and Robin. No, wait, that's not right. Stephanie's _**way**_ more like Wonder Woman!

During the party, Ranger took the time to introduce us to, like, _**everyone**_ who was related to me. The quinceañera, my cousin Blanca Rose, was very nice to me. She's very pretty and lots of people said that I looked a lot like her, which made me feel glad. Her grandparents – who are also Ranger's Uncle Marcos and Aunt Maribel – hosted the party in their backyard. They're, like, super rich and live in a huge house on the bay. My great-grandfather was actually staying on a big boat that was tied up to the private pier beyond Uncle Marcos' backyard. Now _**that**_ was way cool!

"Julie, you must come out to South Beach to visit me sometime," Papí insisted. "I understand his reasons, but Carlos has kept you away from us for far too long." Then he bent down and whispered in my ear, "I might even teach you how to play the tumbas, eh?"

I agreed with my great-grandfather and I vowed that – whether they wanted to or not – both my parents and Ranger were going to have to let me, like, meet the rest of my relatives _**and**_ let me spend more time with them. Of course, I'll always be a Martine, because my dad chose to adopt me, but my true Cuban blood comes from two very interesting families and, like, I was way past due for learning about my father's people. It was going to be a great summer. I was definitely going to make sure of that!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Summer: Stephanie's POV**

At the end of May, during a Memorial Day picnic at MacDill AFB, Ranger had taken me to a special performance of the Para-Commandos. These guys were all military free-fall parachutists and it was very inspiring to watch them drift down through the air and land on their designated targets on the sandy beach. It was so inspiring, in fact, that I immediately renewed my desire to do what they were doing.

"I want to do _**that**_!" I exclaimed as I watched one of the parachutists land. He was carrying an American flag, which he eventually gave to one of the little girls in the applauding crowd of onlookers.

Ranger glanced at me and asked, "When, Babe?"

"Right now," I answered.

"How about tomorrow?" he asked. "I have friends in … high places. Just say the word and I'll get your knees in the breeze ASAP."

My mouth dropped open and then I said, "Are you _**serious**_?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "I've been recertified as an instructor, so I can take you on a tandem jump – that's the one where you'll be tethered to a harness in front of my chest and we'll land together. We can go up at any time. In fact, we'd better do it soon because we're due back in Trenton by the end of the week."

And so we went sky-diving the next day. Ranger took me out to a private airfield, where he had some former military friends who ran a skydiving school. I went through an hour of instruction with both Ranger and the head instructor – who was also the pilot – and then we took off. I was very nervous the first time we flew, but falling through the air was such an awesome feeling that I had to go up again right away.

"Green light," yelled one of the junior skydiving instructors, the one who was acting as our jumpmaster that morning. "Go!"

After a terrifying moment of staring out at swiftly-passing clouds, I nodded to Ranger and we hurled ourselves out of the small aircraft and into the cold atmosphere. Woo hoo! I felt completely free as we dropped through the clouds together and I saw the tiny features of the landscape far below us. I was flying – really flying this time! Both Ranger and I had our arms stretched out as we completed our second tandem sky diving jump of the day. There we were – Wonder Woman and Batman – flying through the air with the greatest of ease. It was _**phenomenal**_!

While we continued our rapid descent, another skydiver with a camera mounted to his helmet took loads of photos of our adventure. Ranger let me pull the ripcord and our parachute whisked us upward before we began to drift downward again. I hated to see the ground as it appeared to rise up to meet us, but Ranger controlled our landing and there weren't any problems at all. After three more tandem jumps, we decided not to press our luck and called it a day. My adrenaline level remained so high that we had some of the best sex ever. Who knew that skydiving would bring out the "wild woman" in me?

So that's how we ended our time in Tampa. I, Stephanie Plum, had finally achieved one of my life-long dreams: I had flown! And it was Ranger – my Batman – who had given me my wings. Over dinner that night, he reminded me about his Christmas gift to me of skydiving lessons, which were waiting for me back in New Jersey. I could hardly wait to get back home and get my "knees in the breeze" again.

Unfortunately, it would be quite a while before I'd be able "fly" again. There were several major events we would have to deal with once we returned to New Jersey and they promised to consume all of my spare time. The first major event was the trial of Roberto Galarza, Jr., which was scheduled to take place in Atlantic City during the middle of June. The second event was Connie and Vince's wedding, which was scheduled to take place down at Cape May at the end of June. The third major event was Julie's visit, which was scheduled for early July. The fourth major event was Joe Morelli's wedding, which was scheduled for the middle of July. And then there was my sister Valerie's newest baby. She was due sometime in June or July, but who knew when a baby would decide to arrive? Honestly, I should have known that the skydiving would turn out to be the only easy thing that happened during that summer.

After we left Tampa, Ranger and I visited Miami for a few days. Julie had begged Ranger to give her a tour of the RangeMan offices on Biscayne Boulevard. Rachel reluctantly approved the "field trip" and while Julie was in the building, we received word that Juanita had gone into early labor. We took the girl with us to the hospital and she got to meet little Silvio Junior moments after we were allowed to visit with the proud parents. Needless to say, Rachel wasn't happy with us when we returned Julie to her home much later than expected. She even threatened to reconsider allowing her daughter to visit us in Trenton in July. This made Ranger very angry, but he didn't say anything for fear of endangering Julie's trip.

Ella was ecstatic to see us return to the seventh floor apartment of the Haywood building. Everything was just as I remembered it, only better. Of course, Ranger and I had to "rechristen" each room and we had a lot of fun making love in a variety of places. I went to my regular doctor as soon as I could and requested a prescription for the Pill. I didn't really want to hassle with it, but I knew that Ranger despised having to use condoms again. We hadn't really discussed it, but neither of us was ready to try our luck without any means of contraceptives.

My mother zeroed in on me as soon as I parked my silver Cayenne in front of her house. First of all, she wanted to know when I planned on getting pregnant. I took too long to answer that question, so she moved on to ask me if I could at least make myself useful and go to the airport for her that afternoon. Grandma Mazur wanted to be in town when Valerie's new baby arrived, so she and Bruno had made plans to travel to Trenton while they were on their way to his family's beach house on Martha's Vineyard. My mother didn't want to be away from the Burg for very long, in case Valerie went into labor – especially since Albert wasn't exactly reliable in emergency situations.

Although I had just visited Bruno and Grandma's house in Coral Gables, it was good to see them again in Trenton. They were such a cute couple! Much to my father's relief, I settled them into my old apartment and they fit right in with the other senior citizens who lived in the building. I had dropped off an entire case of Dillon's favorite beer and the maintenance man - who was very glad to see me again – promised to take good care of my grandmother and her husband. And he did.

Everyone had a pleasant dinner at my parents' house that evening, even if Val's kids made a terrible mess. I was just thankful that no mashed potatoes ended up in Ranger's hair. That honor completely belonged to me. Honestly, the more time I spent around actual children, the less I daydreamed about my "someday" children with Ranger. I became extremely diligent about taking my Pill. No way was I ready to jump aboard the motherhood train!

Naturally, Valerie went into labor during the second day of Galarza's trial. Galarza's goons had already gone to jail and they had ratted on their low-life boss immediately. Ranger still couldn't believe that those idiots had tried to abduct me at the hotel on New Year's Eve, but he was glad that their cooperation had led to Galarza's quick capture. While we were still in Tampa, Tank had kept us up-to-date with all the trial preparations and we were ready for our days in court. He even made reservations for Ranger and me – and him and Lula – to stay at a very nice bed-and-breakfast place on the beach.

I had already given my testimony when I got the message that my sister had gone to the hospital, so Lula and I left Ranger and Tank in the courtroom. He sent Bobby with us. I was resigned to the fact that that unless I requested some alone time, I'd always have a RangeMan escort whenever Ranger himself wasn't able to be by my side. By the time we arrived at the hospital, Val had delivered a healthy, eight-and-a-half-pound baby boy. Newborn Francis Albert Kloughn was my parents' first grandson and they were ecstatic!

I was happy, too, of course. Now that Valerie had succeeded in giving my father his fondest desire – a male grandchild - I knew that the pressure was off of me to produce one for him. Upon seeing my father's elated face, though, I almost felt like I should try to get pregnant with a boy right away, just to make him proud of me, too. I knew I was being irrational, but I felt slightly jealous that, once again, my older sister had accomplished a feat that I'd never be able to duplicate or outshine. There would only ever be one first grandson, and Little Frankie – as they had decided to call him - was it.

Then I had a sudden flash of insight. There was no need for me to be jealous of Valerie or insecure about my life anymore. I was married to an awesome man who loved me for who I am and he was someone both of my parents could stand. I now had plenty of money and lived in a very nice, secure place. I even had a sweetheart of a stepdaughter, as well as a loyal and long-lived hamster. I realized that my mother might _**never**_ stop pestering me about giving her more grandkids, but now that my father had a grandson, he _**wouldn't**_ be bothering me anymore. It felt like a ten-ton weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and I could hardly wait to tell Ranger. If we decided to have children of our own someday, then maybe we'd have them. Until that time … well, I was free!

It was very late when we all finally left the hospital, so Lula and I decided not to drive back to the coast that night. I was in a very good mood, thus, in a moment of weakness, I invited her to stay on the seventh floor with me. While I was still in Florida, Lula had been driving me crazy with her constant text messages about dress fittings and bridal shower gifts and bachelor party preparations for Connie and Vince's quickly-approaching wedding. Too late, I realized that Lula saw this impromptu slumber party as an opportunity to stay up all night and discuss all the plans in painstaking detail. Ungh! Mental head slap!

Since this was Connie's second marriage, her wedding party would be significantly smaller than the typical Italian wedding party. Her sister was going to be her matron of honor. Two Rosolli cousins, Lula and I were going to be the four bridesmaids. We already had our gowns and even though Lula had picked them out, they were actually very nice. She insisted that I model mine for her. It became painfully obvious that I would have to stick to Doc O'Neill's diet for me for the rest of the month if I planned to fit into my dress.

"Jeez, Lula," I groaned as she zipped me into the hot-pink floral, off-the-shoulder dress with a side slit that exposed skin almost up to the top of my thigh. Now that I had it on my body, I realized that the gown was quite a bit more revealing than I had originally thought. "We'd better hope for a nice calm day at Cape May," I warned Lula. "A few stiff ocean breezes and these bridesmaids' gowns might just steal the show away from the blushing bride."

Lula shook her head, "Nah, you just sayin' that 'cuz you ain't seen Connie's wedding dress, yet. Her outfit is gonna make _**everybody**_ blush. I already told Tank that Bobby better have his medic kit handy – you know, in case some of our Merry Men keel over from all the excitement over Connie's dress."

"Do you think Vince will like it?" I asked as I wriggled out of my dress and put my comfy sweats back on.

"Like it?" Lula replied with a confused look on her face. "Honey, Vince'll be lucky if he remembers a single thing about his wedding. The boys are planning to get him so drunk at his bachelor party, I doubt he'll be able to do much more than stand at the altar and drool. Like I said, it's a good thing Bobby is our medic."

Bobby also was going to be Vince's best man. Ranger, Tank, Benny and Roy were going to be the groomsmen. Several other Merry Men, including Lester and Binkie, had volunteered to be ushers. Somehow, they all had convinced Vince that they needed to wear their now-infamous pin-striped suits. Instead of pastel pink shirts, like at Tank and Lula's wedding, the guys planned to wear white shirts with hot-pink bow-ties and matching cummerbunds. Ranger wasn't very happy about having to wear pink again, but I had assured him that he looked extremely manly, no matter what shade of pink he was wearing.

Lula slept out on the living room couch. When I called Ranger to let him know that we'd be staying in Trenton overnight and driving back out to Atlantic City in the morning, he growled something about not letting Lula sleep in _**his**_ bed. I was slightly offended by my husband's bossy attitude, but later that night, I was grateful. Somehow, I had forgotten about the way Lula snored. Even though I closed the bedroom door and stuffed a towel under the bottom edge of the door, the horrendous sounds of Lula's snoring kept me awake half the night. It's safe to say that I was quite grumpy in the morning, even after Ella fed us one of her yummy breakfasts.

The next day was one of the worse days of my life. When we arrived back at the courthouse in Atlantic City, Tank wanted to know if we had been in contact with Ranger that morning. The giant man had eaten something the previous night that disagreed with his stomach, so he hadn't felt up to going on their usual morning run. Ranger gave his partner some Pepto Bismol™ and told him to go on ahead to the courthouse and not wait for his return. They planned to link up with the lawyer there. Both of them were supposed to testify in less than an hour, but Ranger hadn't shown up at the courthouse, yet. Tank had been sending the Man of Mystery texts all morning, but there hadn't been any responses.

"Usually, I wouldn't worry about something like this," Tank admitted. "I just have a funny feeling."

"You sure it's not your aching belly?" Lula asked. Then she began to scold him, "You _**know**_ you shouldn't have eaten all those Buffalo wings last night – especially since half of them were supposed to be mine! And I _**told**_ you that I asked for my half to be extra, extra, _**extra**_ spicy. I don't care how much you _**think**_ you can eat, Tank, that many hot wings will mess you up real good!"

Tank rolled his eyes and replied, "Lula, honey, my belly might be messed up right now, but I'm sure about my gut feelings."

This was not reassuring. I had wondered why I hadn't received any more morning greetings from my Batman. Whenever we were apart, he would send me little messages just to let me know he was thinking about me. It had been a while since Ranger's first text to me at five in the morning – a simple "_miss u, Babe_." I began to worry when our lawyer kept glancing down at his wristwatch. It wasn't until I began the nervous gesture of twisting my wedding band around on my finger hat I remembered our rings' imbedded GPS trackers.

"Tank! I've got an idea!" I whispered loudly to his back. He was sitting in the row in front of me and he turned around to stare at me.

"What is it?" he asked, his whispering voice was a low rumble.

"We have to call back to the RangeMan control room," I said. "If Ranger has his tracking device on, our guys should be able to locate him, right?"

Tank looked confused for a moment, but then he nodded, whispered something into the lawyer's ear and followed me out of the back of the courtroom. Lula went to go find us some more coffee and I called back to RangeMan headquarters on my cell phone. Roy was on monitor duty and he was confused when I explained that I needed him to find the blip that represented Ranger. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Roy gently told me that Ranger was untraceable.

"Not anymore, he's not," I declared confidently.

Then I remembered that only Ranger and I knew the specific code that would allow our trackers to have visibility on any of RangeMan's monitors. Well, this was an emergency, so I was sure that Ranger wouldn't mind me telling Roy about our wedding bands and the special code. So I explained the whole thing to him. From the way Tank was staring at me, I knew that Ranger hadn't clued-in his oldest buddy, either. Within minutes, Roy whooped triumphantly.

"Got him!" Roy crowed. "His blip is a bright as day on my display screen now. And, hey, Bomber, you've got a bright blue blip on here now, too. I can see that you're in Atlantic City. But, this is … strange-" And then Roy's voice drifted off.

My heart nearly stopped and I croaked, "Roy, what is it? What's the matter?"

After another moment of hesitation, Roy replied, "I … I'm sorry Stephanie, but I'm not quite sure what to make of this. If this is correct, then it seems like Ranger's blip is headed … um, well … out to sea."

"Out to sea?" I exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?"

Tank swore loudly and then started to make a call on his cell phone. He startled me when he barked at me to hand over my phone. He didn't have to ask twice. Clearly, Tank and Roy knew how to communicate with each other in a different form of English than what I knew. All I could understand were the strings of numbers he repeated and copied down on a piece of scrap paper. Then Tank made two more phone calls – one to the police and one to the Coast Guard - and when he finally disconnected, he looked at me with a somber expression on his face and I knew the news was worse than I had expected.

"Steph," Tank began, "I think someone in Galarza's gang of goons has snatched Ranger. We've been receiving threats at RangeMan ever since this whole mess began. They don't want him to testify."

"What kind of threats?" I asked and I felt the blood drain from my face.

Tank shrugged his massive shoulders and said, "Stupid stuff - like promising to feed Ranger to the sharks. But Steph, we _**never**_ thought they'd have the cajones to do anything like this. They've probably got Ranger locked up on the father's yacht somewhere. If Roy is right, they're headed out to the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean."

"Omigod! There are lots of sharks out there!" I exclaimed. My knees wouldn't support me anymore, so I plunked myself down on a wooden bench softly wailed, "Oh, Ranger! How could something like this happen? Wh-why?"

"Why what?" Lula asked as she sashayed toward us. She was carrying a cup-holder with three large Styrofoam coffee cups jammed into it. "What's goin' on? Didya find Ranger?"

"Maybe," Tank shrugged. "Probably. The Coast Guard is checking now. I gotta go tell the lawyer so he can tell the judge. This is gonna hold up the trial, but the defendant will get over it. I'm sure he's behind Ranger's sudden disappearance, anyway. Crap!" Then he lumbered off and headed back into the courtroom.

Fifteen long hours later, I was back at the hospital, dozing off and on in an uncomfortable chair next to Ranger's hospital bed. The Coast Guard had apprehended the Galarza family yacht as it passed by off the coast of Delaware. They searched the luxury vessel and discovered Ranger, bound and gagged, stuffed into a small utility compartment aboard the boat. After they rescued him, we requested that he be transported to the hospital in Trenton, where he had to stay overnight for observation.

Apparently, more of Galarza's vengeful goons had ambushed and overpowered my Batman while he was jogging along the beach. They had attacked him from behind with a stun gun and then beaten him while he was unconscious. The thugs had blackened both of Ranger's eyes, cracked two of his ribs and gave him a concussion. They never would have been able to do such damage in a fair fight. Once the doctor said it was okay for Ranger to get some rest, the nurse gave him a strong dose of painkillers, and he drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, Ranger's eyes fluttered open and he groaned, "Babe."

"I'm right here, Carlos," I replied and I held his hand in mine.

"So glad … I … married you," his voice was barely above a whisper. "Got … the … ring."

I smiled down at him and gently patted his hand, "Yep, you did good with our rings. That's how we found you."

"Knew … you … would," he said and his eyes fluttered shut again.

Miraculously, Ranger's visible injuries healed enough for him to be able to participate in Connie and Vinnie's wedding. As far as Italian weddings go, this one went fairly smoothly. Lula was right; Connie's wedding gown was "va-va-va-voom" gorgeous and Vince was present in body only, because his mind was "three sheets to the wind." I was right, too; it was a beautiful and breezy day down at Cape May, where Vince's parents lived, and our very revealing bridesmaids' dresses created quite a stir. Between our wind-blown skirts and the Merry Men's buff bodies, there was plenty of "eye candy" to go around that day. Naturally, Ranger and I only had eyes for each other.

One week later, Rachel allowed Ranger and me to come down to Miami and we escorted Julie back up to New Jersey for the first two weeks of July. We all watched the spectacular Fourth of July fireworks show above the New York harbor. Ranger's mother, Gloria, threw two dinner parties and a backyard barbeque for Julie so that she could visit with most of her Mañoso family. Amazingly, only one or two of Ranger's older relatives asked me whether or not I planned on getting pregnant any time soon. I gave them the vaguest of answers and moved away from them as quickly as possible.

We spent a week at a beach house Ranger rented near Point Pleasant. Albert sent Angie, Valerie's oldest daughter, out to the beach to spend a few days with us and, surprisingly, the girls got along with each other quite well – probably because they shared deeper connections than anyone would have guessed. Julie was a few months older than Angie, but they were in the same grade in school. Both girls were very intelligent, they both had mothers who had remarried, they both loved their step-fathers, and they both had younger half-siblings who vied for their parents' attention. It was good to see Angie and Julie building a friendship and I hoped that it would last for a long time.

One of my favorite things to do was to sit under my beach umbrella and watch Ranger and Julie play in the surf. They had so much fun and they looked so much alike! I began to daydream about what it would be like to be able to have Julie spend entire summers with us and perhaps some holidays, too. Unfortunately, Rachel wasn't ready for such arrangements and we didn't want to push our luck with her and Ron. The two-week visit sped by so quickly that all of us were genuinely sad when Ranger and I had to take the girl back to her Florida home. We craved more time together, but we had promised to return Julie to Miami before her twelfth birthday party, which, thankfully, Rachel allowed us – and Papí Súarez - to attend.

Ranger and I made it back to Trenton just in time to attend Joe Morelli's wedding. Now _**that**_ was a much more traditional Catholic wedding than Connie's soiree. Because Joe's fiancée, Linda Hansen, was a grade-school teacher, they had had to schedule their ceremony and honeymoon to take place during the summer break at the end of the school year. And since it would be the first marriage for either of them – and they both were from "good" Catholic families - the Morelli/Hansen wedding lived up to its promise to be a huge, bloated spectacle. Practically the entire Burg turned out to see the last of the wild Morelli boys get hitched. I didn't envy Linda one bit!

By the end of the summer, things finally settled down enough for me to take my skydiving lessons. Surprisingly, Jenna Cafferty's husband, Eric, was my primary instructor. It was good to catch up with both of them and I was happy to hear that her mother and the rest of her family was doing much better now that her biological father, John Cantrell, had been sentenced to life in prison. When I finished my lessons, Ranger came out to the airfield and we went on several jumps together - only this time, I was flying all by myself!

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Autumn: Tank's POV**

The summer flew by faster than ever. After the incident during the first Galarza trial, when more of the idiot's loyal goons managed to kidnap Ranger and beat him up pretty good, my old friend and I had a long talk. I was impressed that Stephanie had been able to talk Roy through the process of activating the tracking device which was embedded on Ranger's wedding band and that the Coast Guard was able to locate him so quickly. I was _**not**_ impressed by the way Ranger had withheld key information about his and Stephanie's latest personal tracking devices. He assured me that it was an oversight and that he truly had meant to tell me about their rings. I had to admit, though, that I was hurt by his exclusion.

"Tank, it was stupid of me," Ranger apologized. "I shouldn't have gone off for a run by myself that morning and I should have told you about the rings as soon as I got them altered. You know I've had a lot on my mind lately. That's part of the reason why _**you're**_ in charge of this RangeMan office now. And, I must admit, the business is doing very well under your steady leadership."

"Thanks," I nodded. "You know, Ranger, I've had a lot on my mind, too. I'm glad that you and Steph were able to get everything sorted out down in Tampa, but I've been wondering: what's next for you two?"

Ranger regarded me with that certain look he often gets. I had seen it a thousand times and I knew it meant that he was thinking very hard about a sticky problem. I hoped that the "sticky problem" wasn't me this time. I really liked what I was doing now with and for RangeMan and I didn't want to relinquish control of this part of the company back to my old friend. Just when I was about to put my feelings into words, Ranger spoke.

"Why do you ask?" he said.

I fidgeted for a moment and then a flood of words tumbled out of my mouth. "Well, it's been a busy summer, you know. There was that FUBAR Galarza trial. Vince's wedding took a lot of manpower. So did the security jobs for the Fourth of July celebrations. We had to provide full coverage for both Stephanie _**and**_ your daughter Julie while she was in town and when you all went out to the beach. And then there were all those days that a team had to cover the airfield while Steph took her skydiving lessons."

He nodded and a slow grin spread across his face. "Now you see why I've always had a specific funding line dedicated solely to my wife," he said. "She's a very busy lady. She generates lots of work."

The tension seemed to have eased up a little and I chuckled. "The good news is that contracts are plentiful these days," I explained. "We've had to bring on lots of independent contractors and temporary hires to cover all of our obligations. The bad news is that money is getting kind of tight. When do you think you and Steph might be able to go back out into the field and catch some more high-dollar skips?"

"Very soon," he replied. "In three weeks, I'm going back 'in the wind' and I'm taking Stephanie with me."

I let that news sink in for a moment before I asked, "Will you be staying down in Florida for part of the time?"

"Probably," he nodded. "Silvio sent me the files on some good prospects and I've been talking to Steph about this for a while."

"I _**have**_ noticed that she's spending a lot more time in the gym and on the firing range," I said. "She's even coaxed Lula into joining her for a few rounds of target practice. They're actually improving their scores."

Now Ranger chuckled. "That's my Babe! My only request of her was that she'd prep herself for action. Of course, her only request of me was that I'd take her to warm and sunny places all winter long."

"So, how long do you think you'll be out there?" I asked. I had begun to feel a slight sense of loss, but I didn't allow my face to betray my thoughts.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Depends on what – or rather, _**who**_ - we find along the way. You know the deal."

"Hooah," I replied. (A_bsolutely!__)_

After living 'in the wind' off and on for almost ten years, I most certainly did know the deal. In a way, I envied Ranger. He and Stephanie were free to travel around the world and go on great adventures together. There was no way that my Lula would ever be able to tone down enough for covert operations, but when I thought about the lifestyle we had here in New Jersey, I realized that I really was happy to settle down. Running the Trenton office of RangeMan was where I needed to be now. Sighing, I turned to Ranger and asked, "Where do you think you'll go first?"

Ranger shrugged again and said, "Definitely Miami. Then Atlanta and Boston before it get too cold. I've already started to work on the most lucrative federal cases. Silvio's helping on his end, too, especially now that Juanita and the baby are doing just fine. When Steph and I bring in these skips, money shouldn't be so tight."

Again, I nodded my head. "Okay, then. We'll always be on stand-by if you need anything. Just let me know."

"Hooah," he replied. (_Thanks for understanding, old friend_. _I'm gonna miss you, too._)

I watched Ranger walk down the hallway and step into the elevator. When we officially transferred the office over to me, we agreed that the seventh-floor apartment would always remain his private domain. I realized then that he and Stephanie were going to be a nomadic couple, chasing skips across the country and having adventures for a while. Trenton probably always would be a home-base of sorts for them, because of Steph's family ties in the Burg. Sadly, I had the feeling that we wouldn't be seeing her and Ranger as often as some people - including my wife - might like. Our Batman and Wonder Woman simply weren't ready to settle down yet, and that was okay by me. I vowed always to be here for the Dynamic Duo, whenever they needed me, and I'm a man who keeps my promises.

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**A/N: Well, I **_**almost**_** completed this story before the end of the year. It's been an interesting journey for me, so far, and it's not quite over yet. Even though I wrote most of it, including the upcoming epilogue, in my big spiral notebook over a year ago, it has taken me a long time to research the book quotes I wanted to use and to type up all of the chapters. Of course, it doesn't help matters that I tend to edit plot points while I type - or that I haggled with my poor beta, Claire, way too many times. The next time I write a story, I'm going to wait until I've finished typing the whole thing before I start posting the chapters! I hope to edit and post the epilogue very soon. While you're waiting, please check out the photos I added to "illustrate" this chapters. They're over at "www (dot) flickr (dot) com/photos/writes4fun/. Again, I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to let me know what you think of my writing. I'll get back to you soon. Thanks! **


	38. Chapter 38

**Free At Last**

**Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns Stephanie Plum and all of her family and friends. I just like to play around in her world. Anyone you don't recognize is someone from my own imagination, but I'm still not making any money here. Also, the words of the song "Everything" belong to ****Michael Bublé and his co-writers, Alan Chang and Amy Foster-Gillies.**

**A/N: Thank you for joining me on my inaugural adventure into the Plum-verse. I've truly enjoyed the journey. Many thanks to those of you who took the time to tell me what you like about my story, as well as hints and recommendations for improving it. I've truly appreciated all of your input and the many encouraging reviews – especially Mik N'jirnav, who sent in the 800****th**** review! And now the time has come – **_**finally**_** - for me to wrap up this story. Although I had written my epilogue ages ago, I made too many plot changes in the previous chapters for it to remain in its original form. Then, upon hearing Michael ****Bublé****'s song, "Everything," again, I also decided to present this final chapter in songfic form. So, after several re-writes - and pleading with my former beta, Claire, to check it over for me one last time - here is the closing. Happy reading, everyone! Enjoy! :D**

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_He [Ranger] was standing close, his face inches from mine, his hand at the back of my neck. "We're going to do this, babe," he said. "It's going to be good." And then he kissed me. _

_Hard Eight by Janet Evanovich_

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**Epilogue**

**Ranger's POV**

Sometimes it's hard to believe that it's already been ten years since my best friend, Tank, and I left the active-duty Army and started up a little company we decided to call "RangeMan." My government handlers wanted me to gain some "street credibility" and arranged for us to become free-lance bond enforcement agents. At first, we operated out of a couple of hole-in-the-wall offices in Miami and Trenton. When our reputations as competent bounty hunters earned us a lot of respect – as well as a lot of money - we were able to expand our operations and hire more of our like-minded friends and associates. Within a few short years, we actually owned office buildings in Miami, Trenton, Boston and Atlanta. We've also branched out into the private security systems business, which has become our core business to this day and has served as an excellent cover for our more clandestine missions.

After I married Stephanie Plum and took her away "in the wind" with me, Tank was able to strike a good deal with Vincent Plum's bail bonds office. Vinnie's father-in-law, Harry the Hammer, had almost closed down the place when he discovered that there were no employees working for Vinnie anymore. Steph was chasing bad guys out west with me and Connie had taken a permanent leave of absence when she and Vince decided to start their family sooner rather than later. Even Lula had quit chasing skips for Vinnie after she married Tank, so that she could attend college classes full-time to finish her bachelor's degree. Harry agreed to let the bail bonds office stay open only if RangeMan would be on contract to deal with fifty percent of the cases. Now Tank trains the new guys by assigning them to work with Vinnie, who is back on the streets chasing skips again while his wife, Lucille, does his filing – when she feels like it.

After Lula finished her college degree, she had intended to become a social worker, but she became a stay-at-home mother instead. When her old hooker friend Jackie, who used to turn tricks with her on the same corner long ago, discovered that she was dying of cancer, she begged Lula to take care of her children – a boy named Lil' Jack after Jackie, of course, and a girl named Camille. At the time, Lil' Jack was barely two years old and Camille was a four-month-old infant. Thankfully, neither child had been born addicted to whatever it was that Jackie had been smoking, snorting or shooting into her veins.

Apparently, Lula had had a pretty rough childhood due to her own mother's addictions and issues and she couldn't bear to think of Jackie's kids going into the foster care system; therefore, right before the poor woman died, Lula and Tank became the legal guardians of the two helpless babies. Steph and I were skeptical about our friends becoming parents, but they seemed to be excited about it. The official adoption became final a year after Jackie died and, according to Tank, the kids don't seem to remember much of their life before becoming permanent members of the RangeMan family.

"Ranger, I'm tellin' ya'the truth; Lula is the best thing that ever happened to these kids. If Jackie had lived, their life really would've sucked. She had become a total wastoid and had no idea who either kid's actual father was. And the place where she lived was a friggin' dump," Tank had explained to me over the phone when he called to tell me that the adoption went smoothly. "Of course, we'll tell the kids how much their birth mother loved them when they're older, but for now, I'm glad that Jack and Camille only seem to remember me and Lula as being their parents."

"I bet it makes things easier," I had commented at the time, still enjoying my freedom out west with my Babe.

"Easier, sure, but not _**easy**_," Tank had replied. "We've had to make a lot of adjustments, but it's been worth it – especially since Lula's body can't bear any children and I never really wanted to inflict my gene pool upon any woman, anyway."

Tank welcomed us back with open arms when Steph and I first returned to Trenton. As the Chief Executive Officer and primary owner RangeMan, I knew I'd always have place for my own use at any of my office locations, but I didn't want to usurp my old friend's place as the boss of the Trenton office. In order to decrease confusion about the "chain of command" for our workforce, Tank and I decided to divide the workload so that I oversaw the security systems side of the business and he handled the majority of the fugitive apprehensions.

To this day, I've dealt mostly with business development and the corporate accounts, as well as my government contracts, while Steph has focused on the residential installations of our security systems. She loves to accompany the various security technicians, like Hector and Manny, out to the clients' properties and offer her female viewpoint on the wisdom and aesthetics of each placement. She also has continued to put her skills to work with the computer searches and background investigations. We have a great, easy-going partnership and we love to work together whenever possible.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_You're a falling star; you're the get-away car._

_You're the line in the sand when I go too far_

_You're the swimming pool, on an August day._

_And you're the perfect thing to say_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Today, we're celebrating RangeMan's tenth anniversary as a viable company. Although my men and I can dress up very nicely when we want to, we decided to have a large, casual gathering where everyone could relax and enjoy a day of fun and games. Recently, Tank and I were able to persuade a local businessman to sell us the two underdeveloped lots adjacent to the Haywood building. We plan to build a bigger and better RangeMan office and apartment complex, but for now we've just cleared the lots in preparation for the upcoming construction. Since there's nothing on that property yet, we decided to put up a huge party tent in which to have our company picnic nearby. My cousin, Pete Gonzalez - Gonzo – came into town for the event and he brought a few of the original employees from the Miami office with him, including Silvio. Erik Salvatora arrived from Las Vegas and our business partners from Boston and Atlanta have joined us, too.

Several of the guys Tank and I hired in the beginning – Lester, Bobby, Vince, Benny, Roy, Erik and Silvio – got together for a nostalgic morning workout before the day got crazy. These were the men with whom I had served in the Army – all of us Special Forces, all of us Rangers. They had been with me on that FUBAR mission down in the jungles of Colombia and we all had been severely messed up for a while. Several years ago, Doc O'Neill's specialized treatments helped us all to regain our fertility and today, everyone has at least one kid – except for Roy, who swears he'll stay a bachelor forever, and Bobby, who just got married this year after a very long engagement to his now-doctor/wife, Vivian.

While we were running, the men all started to harass me for starting off the wave of marriages when I eloped with my Babe almost seven years ago. Remarks flew back and forth about how quickly Tank and Lula got hitched, followed soon enough by Vince and Connie, who now have a little boy who's already got a tiny mustache coming in above his upper lip. Vince proudly announced that their second kid is due to arrive during holiday season. While we were congratulating Vince on the happy news, Benny said that he and his wife were working on their second child, too. They have a little girl and are hoping for a boy this time.

"Admit it, cousin," Lester finally urged as we finished the sixth mile of our eight-mile run. "It's _**your**_ fault that we're all old married guys with kids now." Not surprisingly, Lester "had" to marry his girlfriend, Sheila, a few years ago, before she delivered the first of their two little daughters.

"Who you callin' old, punk?" Tank retorted and playfully slapped the back of Lester's head as he passed by him on the jogging path.

"Hey, speak for yourself, Santos," Silvio chimed in, "I feel real good! And _**my**_ wife says I've got the same body I had when I was almost half the age I am now."

Lester laughed and called over his shoulder to Silvio in Spanish, **"Yeah, still short and scrawny! It's a good thing Juanita married you young, while she still had a glimmer of hope that you might grow. I'm sure she's used to the disappointing reality of your skinny ass by now!"**

This was followed by a lot of laughter as Lester took off at a faster pace to escape Silvio's retaliation. We all finished the run in good spirits and headed our separate ways to clean up. Roy still lived in an apartment on the fourth floor, so he just continued upstairs when we returned to the Haywood building. Tank, Lester, Bobby, Vince, and Benny all went to their own homes. The men from out-of-town were staying at our nearby safe houses, so that's where they went to get ready for the picnic. I didn't like to disturb Steph's sleep – she still refused to get up early, preferring to go the gym at lunchtime - so I usually took my shower in the basement before I headed up to the seventh floor.

While I was showering, I thought about the conversation we'd had during the run. All joking aside, it's safe to say that we've got our own "baby boom" going on here at RangeMan – and there are more kids on the way. Erik and his wife thought they were done, but their sixth child is due in early summer. Even though Lester has two of the cutest little girls I've ever seen, he says he'll keep trying until he gets a boy or two. Silvio's wife is due to deliver their third child in a couple of months. Cal Hansen keeps us informed about his cousin, Linda – the one who married Joe Morelli – and he just told us that she also is pregnant with her third child. Lester's already running a betting pool with heavy odds on Morelli adding yet _**another**_ daughter to his first two – as continued justice for his misspent years as a bad boy. Guess it takes one to know one.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_And you play it coy, but it's kinda cute._

_Ah, when you smile at me you know exactly what you do._

_Baby don't pretend, that you don't know it's true._

_Cause you can see it when I look at you._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Luckily, Steph and I had had almost two years of traveling to exciting places and doing exciting things before we decided to return to New Jersey to settle down a bit. We caught plenty of bad guys, we went skydiving and scuba diving, and we stayed at some very nice hotels along the way. As I had promised my Babe, we spent the colder months of the year in the warmer places of the world – Aruba, Puerto Rico, the Florida Keys and other tropical spots – and we truly enjoyed ourselves. It felt very good to be off alone with my wife for such a long period of time, especially because I really wasn't quite ready to share her with anyone back then.

To get into her aliases while we were "in the wind," Stephanie had changed her looks drastically for each job. I even let her talk me into changing my hairstyle and color, too. For her "Michelle Morales" character, Steph dyed her hair black and wore brown contact lenses. She decided that "Rico Morales" had long curly hair, as well as a full mustache and beard. Steph's "Stella Pardo" alias had straight, blonde hair, cut very short. My "Marc Pardo" had light brown hair, slicked back from my face and no facial hair. Needless to say, we had a lot of fun together while we worked our asses off.

It was during the time when we were operating under the guise of our aliases out in Las Vegas that Steph began to put on some weight. No matter how hard she worked out in the gym, the extra pounds just wouldn't come off. After Erik Salvatora, who had been helping us locate some key witnesses near Vegas, joked about the way his wife had put on weight when she was pregnant, we went to a local pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test kit. My Babe and I were both in a daze when we figured out that she was pregnant, and as soon as we wrapped up our last case, we knew we needed to sneak back to Trenton for a very short visit.

As soon as we arrived back in New Jersey, Bobby took us to see his then-fiancée, Vivian, who had begun working as an intern at the nearby St. Francis Hospital in Trenton. She not only verified Steph's pregnancy, but she also was able to give her some good advice and enough prenatal vitamins to last until we returned to New Jersey. I already had decided to take my Babe on a well-deserved month of vacation down at my uncle's place in the Point Pleasant Resort on St. Thomas, before anyone else figured out that we were in town. We swore Tank, Ella and Bobby to secrecy, and we didn't have to worry about Lula finding out about Steph's pregnancy because she was sick at home with the two kids that she and Tank had adopted earlier that year.

It nearly drove my Babe crazy not to be able to see Lula and her kids in person, but we knew it was best for Steph and our unborn child to stay away from sick people for a while. Since he already had become a family man, Tank convinced me that I would need a certain amount of stability during the rest of Steph's pregnancy and after the baby arrived. In fact, it was Tank who insisted that I stay and work with him again in New Jersey so that he could, in his own way, take care of me and my new family. We both knew that my days of keeping my Babe all to myself were over. Besides, no matter how much I wanted to, I knew I couldn't deprive either my mother or Steph's mother the pleasure of being nearby when our first child was born.

Luckily, my Babe's special ability to be in the right place at the right time was still intact. The timing of our short stay in New Jersey couldn't have been better – Steph's parents had gone down to Miami to check on Grandma Mazur and her husband, Bruno, so we didn't have to worry about them figuring out the reason for our visit. We didn't even travel into the Burg because Steph's best friend, Mary Lou, had a house full of kids with head lice and so did her sister, Valerie. Their kids all went to the same elementary school and, apparently, the place was pretty lousy at that time. Connie was on maternity leave from the bonds office after giving birth to her and Vince's first child, so Steph just chatted on the phone with everyone and told them that we were only in town for two days anyway.

In fact, Steph's uncanny timing had enabled us to make some spectacular captures during our time out "in the wind." We had brought in _**eight**_ high-dollar federal fugitives, which allowed us to fill up our own bank accounts, as well as the RangeMan coffers, with a tremendous amount of money. Tank and Gonzo and our other business partners were quite happy with our money-earning successes, so they didn't begrudge us our month-long vacation.

As soon as we confirmed Steph's pregnancy, I informed my government handlers that it would be necessary for them to place me on the "inactive list" for a while. Although they weren't pleased by this new development, they agreed to leave me alone for a while - as long as I understood that I still belonged to them. I knew I wouldn't be able to refuse every job that the Feds sent my way, but I promised Steph that I would discuss any jobs with her before I accepted them. I vowed to operate close to home and to stay mostly out of harm's way. My Babe promised to grow out her hair again, as well as to try to stay out of trouble. Of course, we both knew that trouble had a way of finding her anyway.

A big part of regaining our lives revolved around changing our appearances back to normal. We still had the look – and used the passports - of "Marc and Stella Pardo" when we headed for St. Thomas. As promised, Steph grew out her hair and returned it to its natural color during our stay at the island resort. I cut mine short again so that I wouldn't have to use any more hair dye, and I decided to grow back my facial hair before we returned to the mainland. We didn't realize then that it would be a very long time before the two of us would travel together as any of our aliases again.

The changes in my Babe's body totally astounded me and I was amazed by Steph's nearly insatiable appetite for both food and sex throughout her entire pregnancy. Since Rachel and I had had a marriage only on paper, I had never lived with the mother of my first-born child; therefore, I really hadn't ever been around a pregnant woman before. I was glad I took Steph to St. Thomas for our vacation. The tropical atmosphere was extremely good for us and we had access to the best foods the island could offer, so our diet was healthier than ever. Even better, my Babe could barely keep her hands off of me, so our sex life stayed healthy, too.

"Omigod! These sex hormones are the best part of being pregnant - it's like I just can't get enough!" Steph panted and slumped down against my chest after one particularly vigorous round of love-making on the most secluded beach I could find. She liked to be on top, especially now that her belly was beginning to protrude just a little, and I usually obliged her.

"Babe," I crooned as I ran my fingers through her hair and then stroked her sweat-slick back, amazed that she still had enough energy to continue speaking. We made love more now than we ever did when my Babe was sugar-deprived.

Steph sat up again and swept her damp hair off of her neck. Although it only had grown out few inches, her tresses were back to their natural brown color and, without the regular taming from a hot flat iron, the wild curls had returned with a vengeance in the tropical humidity. She gazed seductively down at me and asked, "So … Carlos, what do you think?"

"About what?" I had asked in return as she continued to let my hands wander up and down her bare torso.

She asked, "What do you think about my hair now?"

"I think it's beautiful, querida," I replied, as I ran my fingers through her dark curls. "_**You're**_ beautiful, Babe."

"Don't you miss being with a blonde?" Steph asked coyly.

"Babe?" I asked warily, wondering what she really meant.

"Well, I was a blonde for such a long time and I just wondered if …" and she let her sentence trail off into a self-conscious shrug.

In my mind, I could sense that Steph was thinking about her old boyfriend Morelli's preference for golden-haired women and I hated the idea that so many of her insecurities came from their time together. Sometimes, even though I thought I had conquered all of my Babe's old thought patterns, stray remnants of her past relationship with the cop would pop up to haunt me. Seeking to vanquish this particular "ghost" once and for all, I rolled our entwined bodies over on our blanket until she was under me and I gazed directly into her clear blue eyes.

"No, Babe; I _**don't**_ miss your hair being blonde -not at all," I reassured her. "Remember back when you captured Eddie DeChooch and you called me in to help you finish the job?"

"Yeah," she answered, a slow grin spreading across her face. "That was when we made 'The Deal,' wasn't it?"

I nodded and grinned back at her. "All of my fantasies of being with you had been with the original brunette version of you," I admitted. "When you called me over to your apartment that night, you had just dyed your hair blonde and I hated it. And when I returned after securing DeChooch at the hospital, the blonde hair ruined the moment for me."

Steph gasped and asked, "Is that why it took you so long to collect your "fee" for helping me to capture DeChooch?"

"If I remember correctly – and I do - you weren't really ready for me at that time, anyway." I grinned and nodded as I twirled a strand of her beautiful, dark hair around one of my fingers. "I've only tolerated your recent blondeness because it was a good look for our assignments in Vegas, but seriously, Babe, I'm glad you're back to your normal brunette self."

"You really don't think that blondes have more fun?" she asked as she arched her body against mine, clearly feeling more confident and already ready for another round of lovemaking.

All I remembered saying before I crushed her lips with mine was, "Babe." And then we were at it again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times_

_It's you, it's you; you make me sing._

_You're every line, you're every word, you're everything._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I'm still a control freak. It's my basic nature to try to control whatever I'm able to control, for however long I can control it. Of course, these days, I'm much better at accepting the fact that I _**cannot**_ control every aspect of my life, but this realization doesn't necessarily prevent me from trying to maintain at least _**some**_ control. It doesn't help matters that I married a wonderful, wacky woman who has brought chaos and uncertainty into almost every adventure we've ever had together. Over the years, however, I've discovered that a little bit of chaos isn't such a bad thing after all.

Morning is still my favorite time of the day. I like to wake up early, when the apartment is usually very quiet and I can indulge my illusion that everything is under my control. I also love waking up next to my totally tantalizing wife. Even after all this time, she somehow manages to drape herself over me while we sleep, but I certainly don't mind that. This morning, when I disentangled my body from hers so that I could go out for my run with my oldest friends, my Babe didn't stir at all. And when I returned to the apartment and slid back under the covers, I noticed that she still hadn't moved a muscle. She was completed exhausted and the reasons for her exhaustion happened to be sleeping all around us in our now-overcrowded apartment.

Of course, back when we returned to New Jersey after our vacation in St. Thomas, everyone went _**crazy**_ over the news of Steph's pregnancy. Both my mother and Steph's mother threw lavish baby showers for her, which filled our apartment with all sorts of baby stuff. Not surprisingly, our families harassed us about our decision to stay in our seventh-floor "fortress" apartment, instead of finding a "real" house to live in. What they didn't know was that while my Babe and I had been on vacation, Ella and Louis Guzman had transformed my den office into a nursery for us. There was no way I was going to subject myself and my new family to the constant intrusions of well-meaning, but pesky, family members once the baby arrived.

Vivian had recommended that we see a respected obstetrician in Philadelphia, but my Babe caved in to family pressure and we ended up going to Valerie's doctor, instead, who scolded us for not getting the proper prenatal care earlier. It took all of my self-control not to drop-kick the old coot out of the window after every appointment, but I refused to let the man make Steph feel guilty. I promised myself that, in the future, we would go to doctors who didn't know _**anyone**_ in the Plum family. I didn't care if that made them mad at me. After all, I already had made both sets of our parents angry by taking Steph and the new baby – a son, born to us on the day after Julie's fourteenth birthday – up to our apartment and making everyone sign in at the front desk when they came to visit.

Against my admittedly weak protests, Stephanie insisted that we name our first child after me. Thus, Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, Junior joined the RangeMan family and everyone promptly started calling him "CJ" for Carlos Junior. Regardless of my son's name or nickname, I was the happiest man on the face of the earth and my Babe was pretty proud of herself, too. Oddly enough, Joe Morelli's wife was in the hospital at the same time, having just given birth to their second daughter. We were friendly toward each other, but I could tell that the cop felt a little self-conscious about only having girls so far. Of course, Frank Plum was overjoyed to have another grandson. Helen Plum and my parents were just happy to have a grandchild from Steph's body – which, fortunately, bounced back into shape very quickly.

There were a few major snow storms in New Jersey before Christmas that year, so we spent a lot of time snuggled up together indoors with our little son, who slept quite a lot. My Babe and I celebrated her body's speedy recovery a bit too enthusiastically and when CJ was only six months old, we soon discovered that we'd be parents again rather quickly. After the holidays, Steph insisted that we head to Miami for the rest of the winter months, which worked out great because we were able to introduce our son to all of the Miami relatives and friends. Rosie and Shelly had transformed the den in my Biscayne Boulevard apartment into a nursery, too, and that was a tremendous help.

One of the bonuses of us being in Miami was that we were able to be involved with the preparations for Julie's quinceañero party. I offered to pay for everything, as a gift to Julie, and Rachel and Ron accepted with gratitude. Rachel was very gracious toward Stephanie, who remembered a lot of details from the time she had helped my Aunt Maribel with her granddaughter's quinceañero in Tampa. My Uncle Diego flew my parents down to Miami in the corporate jet so that they could attend the momentous occasion. It was my mother's first visit to the Súarez side of the family in more than a decade. The women spent a lot of time planning the big event while my father and I spent a lot of time on the _Batcave_, fishing with Papí Súarez. Even though Ron handled the most important roles during the ceremonies, my daughter included a special dance with me in front of all her guests. I felt quite honored.

It was hard for me to believe that my oldest child was now a young lady. Julie was so tall and beautiful and confident. In addition to classical dance classes, Rachel and Ron had supported her learning the martial art of karate and our daughter plans on earning her black belt before she finishes high school next year. As a popular junior at Coral Gables High School, the same place from which both Rachel and I had graduated, Julie has had more than her fair share of potential dates. Fortunately, all of her teen-aged male Súarez cousins have kept their watchful eyes on her, which helps to support Ron and Rachel in their efforts to keep all the horny high school boys away from Julie. This parenting stuff is not for wimps!

While we were in Florida, we also celebrated CJ's first birthday by having a little party on the beach the weekend after Julie's quinceañero. Of course, my parents and Grandma Mazur and Papí Súarez, as well as many of my Miami relatives and the Florida RangeMan crew, were completely overjoyed at being able to join us for the happy event. With an August due date, it was too late for us to fly back up to New Jersey and so our second son was born in Miami, two days before my thirty-fifth birthday. What a great present!

As payback for CJ's name, I insisted that we name our new little boy after Stephanie. Esteban Miguel Mañoso, whom we decided to call Miguel, joined the ever-expanding RangeMan family. We decided to stay in Florida for the rest of that year. Of course, Steph's mother whined and complained when we didn't come home to Trenton for the holidays, but Papí hosted a big fiesta for everyone in Miami and it was fun to spend Christmas on the beach with my Babe and my boys. Sadly, the RangeMan crew of Miami - spurred on by Gonzo, I'm sure - started calling me and Steph "Bat-Daddy" and "Range-Mom" during our extended stay and that's when I began to call them Merry Men.

You would think that my Babe and I might have learned our lessons about celebrating her speedy recoveries, but you would be wrong. Thus, two days after Steph's thirty-sixth birthday, we added little Elena – yes, our third child in just over three years - to our family. It was almost springtime by the time we figured out that Steph was pregnant and she declared that she wanted to give birth to our next child in New Jersey. There was no way Steph would try to endure another hurricane season in the Sunshine State. The tropical heat of the previous summer had been unbearable for my Babe, especially right before Miguel's arrival. So we headed back North while Steph was in her second trimester with Elena.

Of course, Rosie was very sad to see us go, but Ella was ecstatic to have us back on the seventh floor of the Haywood building. Upon our return, there were lots of jokes on the control room floor about my now-obvious virility. Also, someone from Miami - probably Gonzo - must have spread the word about our new nicknames, because they went through the building like wildfire. While Steph didn't mind being called "Range-Mom," I quickly grew tired of "Bat-Daddy." Anyway, I was able to get into great shape with all the extra time on the mats – especially with Lester, who just couldn't keep his big mouth shut. I guess some things _**really **_never change!

Steph nursed each of the boys for the first few months of their lives – until their teeth came in – and she was able to regain her pre-pregnancy shape pretty quickly. There even was the added bonus of her having a bit more cleavage than before, which was quite the pleasant surprise for both of us. Call me selfish, but I'm hoping that all of Elena's teeth will come in early because I'm tired of sharing my Babe's luscious body with all of these wonderful little people I helped to create.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_You're a carousel, you're a wishing well,_

_And you light me up, when you ring my bell._

_You're a mystery, you're from outer space,_

_You're every minute of my every day._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

A smile crept across my face as I slid under the covers, snuggled up behind my Babe and tightened my arm's grip around her soft midsection. I gazed over at the sleeping form of the newest little "agent of chaos" to enter our home - our baby daughter, Elena Maria-Blanca Mañoso. Admittedly, it's a mouthful of a name, but we wanted to honor several of the women in our family. Although it's my youngest sister's name, "Elena" also happens to be the Spanish equivalent of "Helen" which, of course, made the Plum side of the family very happy. "Maria" is a traditional part of the names of many of the women in my family, and Blanca was my beloved abuela's name. Yes, our baby girl is already well-loved by everyone on both sides of her family, but most of all, by me.

Resisting the urge to shake my head in disbelief, I merely smiled at the thought of the sixteen-year-difference between my oldest and youngest children. As if she knew I was thinking about her, my precious baby girl began to squirm inside her portable crib, which was next to our bed. I gently raised myself up onto my elbow until I could see Elena's little face. Her clear blue-green eyes, which were exactly like my Abuela Blanca's eyes, popped open and she stared silently at me before she stuck her tiny thumb into her rosebud of a mouth. Elena and I regarded each other for a long moment and, once again, I noticed how much she resembled Julie, who, of course, also looked like me - except for the blue eyes.

I couldn't help myself as I whispered across Steph's still-sleeping form, "You know you're the last one, right, baby girl? There won't be any more after you." And I seriously meant it.

Six-month-old Elena continued to suck on her thumb and she merely stared sleepily into my eyes without making a sound.

This might sound strange, especially after everything I've gone through since that fateful mission to Colombia, but I've recently recovered from a vasectomy. For better or for worse, it seemed that every time we had unprotected sex, Steph got pregnant. My men even started calling us a "baby-making force of nature" – to my face! Now that we are the parents of three wonderful, but truly unexpected children, our seventh-floor apartment is too crowded. That's part of the reason Tank and I decided to build a bigger headquarters next door, with a substantially larger apartment for me and family, as well as more facilities for training and housing our unmarried employees who do a lot of shift-work. I actually thought about moving my little crew out to a large house on the Jersey Shore, but nothing seemed as right for us as living within the safety and security of our RangeMan home – and my Babe agreed.

Honestly, I never imagined that there ever would be such a crew. I don't have anything against large families – after all, I wouldn't even exist if my parents had decided to stop having kids after they'd had Nestor or Maria. . It's just that I never imagined _**myself**_ to be the father of so many offspring. Although I was very proud and relieved to discover that my body had become fully functional and highly capable of producing children, I did _**not**_ want us to end up like Valerie and Albert. They just had their sixth and seventh children – another boy and then one more girl within the past two years. Steph's mother and grandmother are ecstatic about having so many grand- and great-grandchildren, but the prospect of having more than four children seriously freaked me out.

As soon as Steph gave birth to Elena and the doctor's verified that both of them were healthy, I made an appointment to see a highly-recommended urologist. He explained what happened to me and Steph by saying that "the physical manifestation of my now-potent virility had overwhelmed the contraceptive precautions that were in place at the time." In other words, the Pill wasn't able to protect my Babe's womb from the onslaught of my super-sneaky "Batsperm" – as she now calls it. After several consultations with both Dr. O'Neill and the urologist, I decided to get the vasectomy and Steph supported me wholeheartedly.

No, as I watched my baby girl close her eyes and drift back to sleep, I could say without a doubt that I have no regrets about getting what my Babe now calls the "big snip-snip." I'm fully recovered now and so is Steph. We're free again to relax and enjoy all the sex we want without having to worry about bringing another child into the world every year. This is very important to me because not only do I despise condoms, but also because Steph's libido has never decreased – not even with the back-to-back pregnancies. We're still just as addicted to one another as we ever were, but after Elena was born, Steph finally admitted that she was tired of being pregnant. Three kids of our own are enough for us. Life is good and we want it to stay that way.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_And I can't believe, uh that I'm your man,_

_And I get to kiss you baby just because I can._

_Whatever comes our way, ah we'll see it through,_

_And you know that's what our love can do._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

As I've said before, some things never change. Although Steph has discovered the joy of afternoon naptime, when she and all three of our children usually will sleep for almost two hours, she knows that morning is still _**my**_ favorite time of the day. As soon as I was certain that little Elena was asleep again, I silently moved her crib into the nursery between CJ's toddler-sized bed and Miguel's crib. None of the children stirred when I closed and locked the door.

"Hey, Batman," Steph rasped sexily as she wriggled her backside against me when I returned to our bed. "Do you think there's enough time to-"

I interrupted her question with a kiss and then I grinned down at her. I _**always**_ made time for this. Ever since the arrival of CJ, Steph and I have learned how to satisfy our perpetual addiction to each other by taking advantage of every free moment that comes our way. And although we have refined the art of silent lovemaking, neither of us wanted our little trio to interrupt our fun this morning. First, my Babe made exquisite love to me and then I pulled her on top of my body to return the favor.

Afterward, I deeply inhaled the scent of her wild mane of hair and said, "That was good, Babe. Real good."

Steph nodded and murmured, "Mmmm … yes, it was, Carlos. It's really great that we're celebrating RangeMan's tenth year and everything today, but I'm glad we got to celebrate in our own way now. It's gonna be a long day and we both know that the kids'll be tired and cranky by the time we get back up here."

I grinned even wider and said, "Ella's gonna take CJ and Miguel to her apartment tonight, so we'll only have to worry about Elena. As soon as you give the baby her last feeding of the evening, we'll have the rest of the night to ourselves."

"The rest of the night to ourselves, huh?" Steph smiled down at me. "Yum!" She leaned down to kiss me soundly and then the unmistakable sound of CJ's little fist banging on the door interrupted us.

"Mama! Papa!" CJ yelled through the locked door. "I gotta go pee-pee."

Sighing, I lifted my Babe off of me, got out of our bed and opened the door to the nursery. CJ ran past me and into the bathroom. Obviously in a big hurry, our oldest son waved his little hand at Steph, but he didn't slow down for his usual morning hug. CJ took great pride in the fact that he was fully potty-trained and didn't have to wear diapers like his younger brother and sister. In fact, there hadn't been an accidental wetting since Elena was born.

Jarred out of her slumber by the noise, Elena began to cry, so I gently rescued her from her crib and tried to comfort her. Unfortunately, I didn't possess what my daughter really wanted, so I took her to Steph for her morning feeding. My Babe's ability to nourish our children from her own body never ceased to amaze me and although I could watch her nursing one of our babies all day, Miguel was now clamoring for my attention.

My younger son was a comical sight as he stood there in his crib with his chubby little fingers wrapped around the bars, loudly and indignantly protesting his "imprisonment" until I silenced him with a glare. Then I scooped up my dark-haired, blue-eyed son and tossed him into the air a few times. His squeals of delight put a smile on my face. Soon, though, the pungent odor of his fully-loaded diaper put that activity to a swift end until I cleaned him up a bit. My sandy-haired, dark-eyed son returned to the nursery, sat on the edge of his toddler-sized bed and observed my actions.

"You see this, CJ?" I asked my oldest son as I lifted his brother's bottom and placed a fresh diaper under it. "_**Real**_ men aren't afraid of doing anything – not even _**this**_!" But then I lowered my voice and said, "But let's just keep this to ourselves. Don't tell any of your uncles that your Papa does this, okay?"

CJ nodded and, as always, I was amazed by how much he also resembled my oldest child, Julie. Whenever I compared their baby photos, it was difficult to see which one was which. Their silky, sandy-brown hair could have been a legacy from my Abuela Blanca or from someone on Steph's Hungarian side of the family, but their eyes were all mine – deep brown and serious, with long eyelashes.

Once Miguel's bottom was dry and freshly diapered, his bright blue eyes gazed up at me and he smiled. As long as his diaper was dry and empty, he was a happy-go-lucky little boy. His brown hair was beginning to show the tiniest hint of a curl and his eyes and disposition definitely came from Stephanie. Thankfully, he couldn't escape from his crib – yet. After I finished dressing both of the boys they followed me back into the master bedroom, where we all climbed into the bed next to Steph and the baby. I told both boys to give their mama a good morning kiss and she soon was covered with our children. As soon as Elena was finished with her breakfast, I heard Ella's timely knock on the front door and we knew that breakfast for the rest of us had arrived.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times_

_It's you, it's you, you make me sing._

_You're every line, you're every word, you're everything._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Babe," I called down the hallway, "Hurry up! We're gonna be late." It was almost time for the anniversary celebration to begin and I had been downstairs with Tank, checking on a few last-minute details, while Steph finished getting ready.

"No we're not!" Steph's voice came back at me. "I set all the clocks to be ten minutes fast. Lula told me that's how she's been getting to places on time these days and I thought it was a neat trick."

Sighing, I glanced down at my wristwatch and compared it to the digital display on the microwave oven in the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a ten-minute discrepancy between the two time-keepers. I knew that Steph had meant well, but part of me wanted to take charge of the situation again and return all of the clocks to the actual time. I took a few deep breaths and let the moment pass.

"Since when do you copy ideas off of Lula?" I called down the hallway again, feeling a bit annoyed.

Steph laughed and replied, "Since we ran into each other – literally – down in the basement garage yesterday afternoon. I was hurrying out to go to my parents' house to pick up our kids as she was coming in to the building to pick up her kids. They were visiting with Ella while Lula was running errands. Anyway, she had a bunch of files and papers for Tank in her arms and her stuff went flying everywhere when I crashed into her. After she finished cursing me out, she told me that I just needed to trick my mind into thinking that I had less time than I actually do, so that I could stop rushing around at the last minute."

Shaking my head, I said, "She's got a point there. But I thought Tank said that Lula didn't use bad language anymore."

"Only around the kids," explained Steph as she came out of our bathroom and sashayed toward me. She was still wearing her robe – my old robe - and her wet hair was wrapped up in a towel. "So … relax, Batman! Ella came by earlier and took Elena and the boys with her, which means that we've got plenty of time to get ready by ourselves." Then she kissed me lightly on my lips and said, "Besides, the Merry Men all know us well enough by now that they'll just assume we got _**distracted**_ on our way down."

As always, my body reacted to the seductive tone in my Babe's last statement. I had a quick internal argument with myself about whether or not I wanted to make us arrive _**really**_ late for our own party, even though the event was taking place in our own backyard, so to speak. "We are _**not**_ going to be late, Babe," I insisted – more for my own fortification than hers. "Just consider this to be… unfinished business."

Steph's blue eyes darkened with desire and she cooed, "Oooo! You _**know**_ unfinished business is one of my favorite excuses." Then she dropped her voice even lower and said, "Besides, since the kids aren't here right now … we can, um, make as much noise as we wan-"

A low growl inadvertently escaped from my throat as I grabbed my sexy Babe's hand and pulled her back toward the bedroom. "Screw it!" I said, "The Merry Men can wait."

Steph giggled and said, "I was counting on you saying that!"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times_

_It's you, it's you, you make me sing._

_You're every line, you're every word, you're everything._

_You're every song, and I sing along._

_'Cause you're my everything._

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Not surprisingly, the employees and friends of RangeMan produced loud and vigorous wolf-whistles and cat-calls when Stephanie and I entered the picnic tent and strolled toward the podium in front of the bandstand. Many people were seated at the round tables which surrounded a wooden dance floor. Tank, who was standing off to the side of the bandstand with a beer in his hand, merely saluted me with his bottle and gave me a knowing grin. Gonzo shook his head in mock disgust and began to applaud us and everybody else in the room quickly joined in.

"Hey Bat-Daddy!" called out a familiar voice in Spanish before I got very far. **"You know you two really should let baby number three get a little older, before you start working on baby number four. Give the rest of us a chance to catch up, okay?"** Lester knew that Steph now understood a lot of basic phrases, but there was no way she would have been able to translate everything he'd just said. However, the guys who did understand Spanish chuckled at his remarks.

"Mats, Santos! Monday morning at oh-dark-thirty. Don't be late!" I growled in English for emphasis, but my satisfied grin wouldn't disappear from my face.

I winked at my Babe and released her hand. She looked gorgeous in her red sundress and I knew that she was blushing so fiercely that her skin probably would match the color of the dress very soon. She hurried over to a table where Ella and Lula sat with all of our children and slid into the seat that they had saved for her. It was a good thing that our kids were too young to understand the true meaning of all the coarse jokes and not-so-subtle innuendos that were flying around. Ignoring all of the rowdy Merry Men, I brushed at a nonexistent speck on the sleeve of my crisp blue shirt and then reached for the microphone to deliver my speech.

"Gentlemen – and ladies," I inclined my head toward Steph, Ella, Lula and Connie and they grinned back at me. "Thank you all for coming out today as we celebrate ten years of RangeMan, Incorporated. As most of you know, we started out very small – really, just Tank and me working the streets of Miami and then Trenton after we came off active duty."

"Hooah!" A deep chorus, consisting mostly of male voices, boomed throughout the tent.

I waited for the men to quiet down before I continued, "We invited more of you to join us as we built up our street credibility as all-around 'security experts' as well as bad-ass bounty hunters."

"Hooah!" was the vigorous response again.

It was a rare sunny, early spring day in Trenton and everyone was in good spirits. I slowly gazed around at all of the happy, familiar faces under the tent and waited for the loud exclamations to taper off before I continued to speak again. Congratulating everyone on the fine work that they had given over the past ten years and more, I made sure that I had eye contact with each person as I spoke. I talked about the many ways that our people had served and continued to serve our nation by providing safety and security in whatever ways we could do so.

"With the offices that we've established and maintained in several locations, RangeMan quickly became a force of its own," I said, holding up a hand to demand quiet. "Now, I know it's been somewhat of a joke over the years that I might possibly be Batman. And although my wife definitely is Wonder Woman and 'Range-Mom,' I must admit that I am not the famed Caped Crusader – and certainly _**not**_ 'Bat-Daddy.'" I waited for the laughter to die down and then said, "Be that as it may, we finally have decided to build … the Batcave."

There was a loud roar of approval before I told them all about the plans for the newer, bigger and better RangeMan Headquarters which we would build together on the ground where our feet currently rested. Tank unveiled an easel with the architectural drawings of what we hoped the new complex would look like when it was completed. My speech wasn't very long, but final chorus of enthusiastic "Hooah!"s I received when I was finished let me know that I had done a good job. I shook my head in amazement over all that we had accomplished so far. Now it was time to enjoy a little bit of the good life – at least until the next tough mission.

Then the DJ, who was one of Lester's cousins, cranked up the music and the party went into full swing. Everyone I passed either shook my hand or patted me on the back in congratulations. When I finally sat down next to Steph, she slipped her hand into mine and pulled me toward her for a deep kiss of approval. Ella also nodded her approval of my speech and then wandered off to corral the children so that they could eat their lunch. My Babe handed a cold Corona to me and I silently sipped it as I watched some of guys dancing with their wives or dates. Those of us with younger kids would join them on the dancefloor eventually, but for now, we passed our babies around to sit on each other's laps.

Although I am a survivor, there have been many occasions when I doubted that I'd ever live past the ripe old age of forty. Sometimes, there wasn't much I even _**wanted**_ to live for – that is, until Stephanie Plum sashayed into my life and captured my heart. Even after that happened, there were days when I was certain that she wouldn't choose to be with me, especially since I was so messed-up for such a long time. Now, I want to live, if not forever, then certainly as long as it takes for me and my Babe to raise our three wonderful children together and I'm making every effort to live every moment of this life to the fullest.

Steph interrupted my deep thoughts when she tapped my shoulder to let me know that it was time for her to nurse Elena again. Ella smiled and told me to accompany my wife on her quest for privacy. Our saintly housekeeper had become a "third" grandmother to our children and she had both CJ and Miguel under her complete control. After I escorted my ladies up to our apartment, I decided to go up to the roof of the building. Sometimes I liked to stand and look out at the horizon and survey my surroundings from the high vantage point.

A stiff breeze greeted me when I stepped out onto the roof and I carefully walked around the tall radio transmission towers to gaze down at the property where the new building would exist someday. Unfortunately, I don't possess x-ray vision, so I couldn't see through the party tent to observe the festivities, but some of the men were playing a rather cut-throat game of volleyball on the bare ground beyond the tent. Smiling up toward the sun, I allowed my thoughts to drift for a while. As usual, my thoughts always returned to my Babe.

Over the years, it's been very satisfying to watch Stephanie Plum finally break free from her mother's tight "apron strings," as well as the ludicrous expectations of her Burg upbringing. Even though I had rebelled and escaped from the restrictive ties of my own family long ago, I discovered that I wasn't as free as I'd always thought I was. Actually, I was messed up in many different ways, but with the love and help of my beautiful and talented Babe – I've been able to break free of the bondage of my tortured past and become the healed man that I am today.

My life is the best it's ever been and it's getting better every year. Slowly, but surely, Steph and I have declared our independence from the past hurts and failures and fears. The bond between us is complete. Most of the time, we're truly aware of each other's feelings, desires, triumphs and challenges. When we argue, which we most certainly do at times - we try to fight fair. Since we're both committed to raising CJ, Miguel and Elena in the safest environment possible, we try not to work as many hours as we used to. Perhaps someday, when our kids are much older, we'll get back to chasing skips together, but for now, my Babe and I make sure to sleep in each other's arms each night and we take time to marvel at all the little miracles in our lives.

Yes, today, we truly are _**free at last**_.

* * *

**A/N: ****My two favorite Stephanie Plum novels are ****Eleven on Top**** and ****Twelve Sharp****. As you know, at the beginning of each chapter, I've included quotes from every book in the series, except ****Sizzlin' Sixteen****, which hadn't been released when I started writing. Not surprisingly, the most quotes – seven in total – came from EOT. When I saw the action between Ranger and Steph in those books, I thought (hoped, fantasized, etc.) that JE really would put them together. And after Morelli sheltered the odious Dickie Orr in ****Lean Mean Thirteen****, I was sure that Joe would get marginalized. Guess that shows how much I know. Anyway, I have enjoyed writing this story and I think that most of you have enjoyed reading it. Again, I offer my deepest appreciation to those of you who have taken the time to tell me what you like about each and every chapter of my story, as well as those of you who offered hints and recommendations for improvement along the way. There are too many of you to mention by name, but you know who you are. And to my awesome beta, Claire - I owe you big time! You're the best! Thanks so much for your support and encouragement and patience along the way! I do plan write other stories in this fandom, so stay tuned. Please continue to let me know what you think of my writing. ****I look forward to hearing from all of you in the future. ****Happy reading! :D**


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